The Mentalist: Royal Blood
by Donnamour1969
Summary: 3rd in my Season 3 AU series. The team is tagged to guard visiting royals.  Fluff, farce, humor, and a large helping of Jisbon love. Rated T/M for adult content. No copyright infringement intended.
1. Royal Engagement

A/N: This continues my series set during Season 3, but you don't have to have read my fics,"Red Ryder" or "Red Delicious" (or the subsequent one-shots) to get what's happening in this story, although I wish you would! Anyway, a little background might still be helpful…Lisbon and Jane are together, although they are trying to keep their relationship a secret. This takes place sometime in the winter of this year, before the events of "Red Queen." Expect lots of silliness in the vein of a French farce. I will try to keep everybody in character amidst the humor, but you have been warned, lol.

**Chapter 1: A Royal Engagement**

"I trust you'll be on top of this, Agent Lisbon," Madeleine Hightower said to her senior agent. "Oh, good morning, Patrick."

Patrick Jane stopped outside Teresa Lisbon's door, just as Hightower was finishing her briefing and heading to her own office. He looked at the two women curiously, wondering what was so important that Lisbon was honored with a visit from the queen bee. Jane gave the CBI Director his widest smile. "Madeleine, you're looking lovely this morning."

She smirked knowingly, recognizing bullshit when she heard it. "Thank you," she said in amusement and left the two coworkers alone, confident that her bidding would be done without question.

Jane walked casually into Lisbon's office, teacup in hand. He made himself comfortable on her couch as she sat back in her desk chair. They regarded each other silently, Lisbon sipping her cooling coffee, Jane waiting to be clued in on what Hightower had been talking to her about. Lisbon took great pleasure in letting him wait. It was a battle of wills to see who would give in first—would Jane ask or would Lisbon tell?

The longer they sat in silence, the more amused each became. Their eyes met and held over their respective beverages, so that it became a staring contest as well as the quiet game.

Jane wondered what it was that Lisbon had to stay _on top of_. She was good at staying on top of things, he mused. Hadn't she been in that very position with him just last night? He grinned wickedly, and was pleased with her answering blush. She knew what he was thinking about, all right.

Jane was about to move in for the kill when Grace Van Pelt stopped at Lisbon's open door.

"Boss! Isn't it cool! The royal family of Tremania, can you believe it?"

Lisbon's eyes flew to the younger woman in something akin to exasperation. She had really been enjoying knowing something that Jane did not.

"Yeah, it's very cool," she responded dryly. "I'm not really looking forward to babysitting a couple of spoiled royals, however." She was definitely not sharing in Van Pelt's excitement.

"Awww…" said Jane triumphantly. So that's what all the fuss was about. He guessed it was a stalemate between Lisbon and him, since neither of them had given in. Thanks to Van Pelt, now he wouldn't have to work so hard at squeezing Lisbon for information; but where was the fun in that? He definitely had very sensual ways of making her talk.

"Why don't you get Rigsby and Cho and head over to the Vizcaya Mansion to start coordinating security," Lisbon ordered. "I'll be along in a little while."

"Sure thing, Boss." And Van Pelt went on her cheerful way.

When they were alone, Jane's attention was drawn back to his secret lover. "Okay, cat's out of the bag. You can fill me in now."

Lisbon sighed. "Just as you've likely figured out, we drew security detail for the next two days. The Prince and Princess of Tremania will be arriving in Sacramento tonight—sort of a last minute thing. The Governor is out of state with all his own security people, so the duty fell to the state offices to provide protection for them. Apparently they've had death threats…"

"But why us?" asked Jane. "We're the Serious Crimes Unit."

"Hightower said that no one wanted to do it, given the press reports about how outrageous these people are, so everyone passed the buck until it landed on her desk. We weren't in the middle of a case right now, so she volunteered the team. I'm sure she's wanting to score points with Bertram."

Jane chuckled. "You're probably right. And hey…the Vizcaya—nice digs. Sort of a cushy job, don't you think? Cheer up. Like Hightower said, we've got nothing pending right now. Why not enjoy a couple of days in a fancy mansion, rubbing elbows with royalty? It could be very romantic…" Jane waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"There's no reason for you to go, Jane. I know I wouldn't if I didn't have to."

Jane was more than a little hurt at her dismissal. "Oh," he said, his smile wavering. "You don't want me to go?"

She realized how she must have sounded. "No! I mean, I didn't say I didn't _want_ you to. It's just that, you're no expert in security. You can't even carry a gun. It will probably be very boring for you. I know how much you hate pompous people. If I were you, I'd just enjoy my weekend off."

He sat there, crestfallen. He knew she wasn't intentionally being hurtful, but she knew how much he liked to be in on things, especially when she was involved. He'd had an image of stealing kisses in secluded alcoves, and maybe even sneaking into her fancy room for a midnight tryst. He knew he'd be able to talk her into it, despite her likely protestations of staying all business during a case. He studied her face, realizing suddenly that she was afraid that she _wouldn't_ be able to resist him in such a setting. It was already painfully difficult here in the office, unable to touch each other like they wanted or show how they really felt about one other. Surrounded by the romantic ambiance of a beautiful mansion might be too much of a temptation for his passionate lady. The light in Jane's eyes returned at the thought, and he decided right then that he wasn't giving up on his fantasy so easily.

"Maybe you're right," he conceded, noting her immediate relief at his words. "Spoiled monarchs are definitely not my thing. You go along and do your boring security detail stuff, and I'll relax at home, catch up on my laundry. Maybe even take in a movie—that cerebral one you weren't interested in seeing."

"I'm sorry that we won't have our usual weekend together," Lisbon whispered, genuinely disappointed. She would definitely have rather spent two days off with Jane, even if it meant watching some independent film with too much high-brow dialogue and not enough comedy or action scenes.

"Meh, what's one weekend when we have the rest of our lives?" He didn't miss the happy jolt his words brought to her eyes, and he congratulated himself on saying just the right words that would placate her guilt and let her know he would be okay without her.

They finished their morning chat and Lisbon got to work examining the layout of the mansion Hightower had given her. Jane left her in peace, but not before he stopped at her desk and squeezed her hand lightly. "I'll miss you," he said softly.

"Me too," she said, surprised that her eyes felt a little watery, and there was a lump in her throat at the idea of two days without him.

"Call me when you have a few minutes," he said. And then he was gone. Lisbon looked after him, wishing that her ability to resist him was strong enough to have invited him along. She prayed the weekend would pass quickly and uneventfully. Besides, she'd make it up to him next weekend, she thought with a smile.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hightower was on the phone when Jane gently rapped on her office door. She looked up and waved him in, continuing her conversation. He took a seat in the chair across from her desk and waited patiently. After she hung up, Hightower looked at him pleasantly. She really did enjoy his stimulating company, most of the time, anyway.

"What can I do for you Patrick?"

One thing she liked about Jane was that he quickly got to the point.

"You know, I've been reading up on those Tremanian royals you guys will be guarding. Those death threats seem pretty serious. I was thinking maybe if I had the chance to talk to them in person, I might get some insight as to who has been threatening them."

Hightower considered him blandly. "Thank you, but your services haven't been requested on this particular case."

"I know. Lisbon didn't want me to go either. But really, how could it hurt if I just talked to them?"

Hightower's lips quirked. He hadn't seriously just asked her that. "Frankly, Patrick, I could think of all kinds of ways your _just talking to them_ could lead to an international incident."

He bestowed upon her his most charming smile. "Oh, come on, Madeleine. I can be good, and I think I could be helpful too."

She regarded him a moment, carefully weighing the pros and cons of his proposal. She was much like Lisbon in that way. But, unlike Lisbon, she didn't know _all _his tricks yet. She shook her head a little in amusement, the precise moment she made up her mind to let him go.

"The Prince and Princess—they're quite a pair," she began. "Twin brother and sister, not shy of the cameras, as you might have discovered in your research. They've been part of many scandals all over Europe, broken a lot of important hearts, so it's no wonder someone out there hates them enough to want to kill them."

"What are they doing in Sacramento?" Jane asked, trying to focus on the royals, but feeling very proud of himself that he'd be able to pull one over on Lisbon.

She shrugged. "Some fancy reception in their honor by a distant relative. But, when heads of state visit the US, their safety is paramount, obviously. There will also be a Fed there to help oversee things."

"Hmmm. Well, spoiled and rich I can handle," Jane reassured. "They're all alike, in my experience."

She paused a moment, perhaps second-guessing her judgment on this. "I don't have to remind you, Patrick, how serious this could be if you screw things up with them. Tremania is one of our greatest diplomatic allies in that region. Offending them could have major repercussions…"

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior. But imagine if I figure out who is making those threats…it would be quite a boost to your—I mean, it would sure make the CBI and the state of California look good."

Hightower was nothing if not ambitious. His last words had solidified her decision, just like he'd intended.

"Okay. They'll be arriving this evening. The reception is tonight, so bring your tux."

"Thanks, Madeleine. You won't be sorry."

She sighed indulgently, but there was an edge to her voice. "Don't make me regret this Patrick."

He grinned. "You won't. Oh, and one more favor?"

He had to be kidding. Hightower was constantly amazed at this man's audacity. She mentally rolled her eyes at him. "What else?"

"Don't tell Lisbon I'm coming. I want it to be a surprise."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because it's always fun to keep her on her toes, don't you think?"

"I really don't think she will appreciate your games here, Patrick."

"Trust me; she won't be mad at all." He childishly crossed his fingers behind his back, secretly hoping Lisbon wouldn't punch him in the nose when she saw him.

"Fine. I won't mention it unless she asks me directly. That's the best I can do."

"Fair enough, Madeleine," he said, and she couldn't help being taken in by his sparkling eyes and engaging smile. She shook her head again as he walked out of her office, calling over his shoulder: "You're the greatest boss ever!"

Why did she have the feeling that she'd just been majorly hoodwinked? She chuckled to herself and focused again on her never-ending mountain of paperwork.

A/N: I hope you like this set-up. I obviously used a lot of poetic license here. There's no such country as Tremania (lol), and I imagine it would be very unlikely that the CBI would be put on their guard detail if there were visiting monarchs. But, please bear with me, suspend your disbelief and have some fun. Thanks for reading. Now, a review would be lovely!


	2. Royal Pains

A/N: Wow! So nice that so many of you read and enjoyed the first chapter. I hope this story lives up to your expectations. This chapter kind of got away from me length-wise, but I had some more groundwork to lay before the farcical elements appear. I promise to amp up the humor in chapter 3, but I do hope you enjoy this chapter on its own merits. It has a few fun bits, I think.

**Chapter 2: Royal Pains**

The Vizcaya Mansion was a gorgeous colonial in mid-town Sacramento. It was mainly used for weddings and society events, definitely suited to the upper crust of this part of Northern California. It was the perfect place for a visiting prince and princess. Lisbon took a final tour of the eight guest rooms, using the pass key card that each of the team had been issued in case of emergency. They would all be staying overnight, taking turns making rounds of the 6500-foot mansion. Lisbon reached up to her ear to tap her ear piece.

"Okay, everybody, radio check," she said into the tiny microphone clipped to her collar.

"Cho here."

"Van Pelt."

"Ten-four, Mama Bear, this is Big Rigs checkin' in. No sign of bogies, come back."

Lisbon sighed and shook her head. "Unless you want to be back at the Bear Cave or working as a paper hanger*, cut the chatter, _Big Rigs_. Mama Bear out."

There was an embarrassed pause. "Sorry Boss. Big—uh, I mean, Rigsby out."

She heard the other two muffling their laughter. Lisbon smiled to herself. Despite her stern warning, she actually appreciated Rigsby's attempt to give them a little comic relief. She hated details like this that wasted both their talents and their time. She didn't blame him for trying to lighten up the situation.

It was approaching five o'clock, the time when the Prince and Princess of Tremania would be arriving at the mansion. It had been an exhausting day, mainly because they had to work around the bustling caterers who were setting up for the reception later that night, plus they had to briefly interview everyone working at the mansion. No one had raised any red flags.

As Lisbon was heading toward the front door of the house, Cho's voice filled her ear again.

"They're here," he said simply.

"On my way."

Two black stretch limousines, escorted by Sacramento PD, pulled into the wide circle drive. Tiny red and cream Tremanian flags flew on the front of each vehicle. Lisbon and her team assembled to greet them, along with the proprietor of the mansion, one Roderick Pine, a nattily dressed gentleman complete with proper British accent.

The CBI team looked around cautiously, scanning the open area surrounding the driveway, then beyond, to the buildings nearby, hands near their side arms. Someone could easily be lying in wait with a high-powered rifle. Cho was annoyed to see the line of paparazzi gathered at the end of the driveway. He wondered who might have leaked their surprise arrival.

The driver of the first limo got out to come around and open the door for his royal passenger. It was Prince Alexander. Lisbon caught her breath at the sight of the stunning man who emerged. He was all dark hair and dark eyes in a tan face. Tall, broad in the shoulders, and clad in an Italian suit, he looked every bit the handsome prince from a fairy tale. The photos she'd seen hadn't done him justice. He squinted in the bright California sun, then his eyes focused on Lisbon and Van Pelt, and his smile lit up his face in a way that would rival even Patrick Jane's.

He walked gracefully to the two women, taking Lisbon's hand first and bringing it to his lips before she could say: "Your Royal Highness, I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon, head of security during your stay in Sacramento."

"Enchanted," he said in softly accented English, looking up into her eyes. "Only in America could such a beautiful woman be allowed so much control over men. Very intriguing."

"Uh, I—"

But he'd turned his charismatic focus upon Van Pelt. He reached up to take one of her shiny red locks between his fingers, studying it as if he'd struck gold. "I have never seen such an amazing color," he said in wonder. "Surely you could not be another body guard for me…" his eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Yes, sir. I'm, uh, Agent Van Pelt." He kissed her hand as well, and Van Pelt could only quiver a little, star struck by the royal attention.

Rigsby, feeling the usual wave of jealousy when another man showed Grace favor, cleared his throat. "Your Highness, I'm Agent Rigsby, and this is Agent Cho. Sir, you should probably move on into the house, for your own protection, of course."

But the prince just waved a dismissive hand at the men, moving past everyone to enter the mansion. His attention span was obviously very limited. Lisbon and Van Pelt caught each other's eyes and grinned a little in commiseration. The man was outrageously delicious. The women followed him inside.

The next limo pulled forward, and pair of long, bare, tanned legs were the first visible parts of Princess Alana to come out of the car. Her high heels clicked onto the pavement as the driver took her hand and helped her out. The twins shared the same dark eyes and hair, Alana a perfect feminine version of her brother. But whereas Alexander's hair was short and wavy, Alana's hung to her waist in perfect ringlets. She was every man's fantasy—hourglass figure encased in a short, tight dress. And when those dark velvet eyes alighted upon Rigsby and Cho, the two men practically fell over each other for an introduction.

"Your highness," Rigsby began in a rush, "I'm Wayne Rigsby, at your service. Please don't hesitate to call on me for anything you need. Anything at all." She took his hand and looked up into his eyes, then she unabashedly examined him from head to toe, obviously liking what she saw.

"Why, Agent Rigsby," she said, her exotic voice smooth and sexy. "Aren't you a tall, handsome man. Alex, is it true what they say about tall men with large feet?"

Her brother, waiting just inside the doorway, rolled his eyes at his sister's boldness. He was apparently used to her daring ways.

"Perhaps you can confirm this theory for me later," she said, squeezing Rigsby's hand before slowly releasing it.

Rigsby flushed scarlet and visibly gulped. "Uh, yes ma'am. I mean-"

"Agent Kimball Cho, Princess," interrupted Rigsby's partner, stepping forward to see to her safety. "May I escort you inside out of this sun?"

Alana gave Cho a similar once-over, but she couldn't help reaching out to touch his bulging biceps, tightly encased in his short-sleeved dress shirt. At her appreciative touch, Cho was no longer embarrassed that he'd forgotten to throw on his suit coat before meeting the princess. Her eyes widened as she didn't resist the urge to use both hands to examine the muscles of his arms. Cho felt himself flexing at her soft touch, and he was pleased by her low purr of approval.

"Agent Cho, you are a splendid specimen. So strong. You make a woman feel very safe."

"That's my job, ma'am."

He held out his muscular arm for her to take as he escorted her inside to stand by the waiting prince. Rigsby jealously trailed behind.

"Tell me, Kimball, what other jobs do you perform well?" She all but fluttered her long eyelashes at him.

The usual unflappable Cho cleared his throat at her sensual undertone, but Prince Alexander saved him having to form a polite response.

"Quit teasing the agents, Alana. Let them show us to our rooms. It was a long flight, and we both need to rest before the reception."

"Don't be such a killjoy, Alex. These lovely men are here to be of service to us. I am only inspiring them to…_service_ me in the best way they know how." She looked over her shoulde at Rigsby and winked. Lisbon and Van Pelt tried to hide their knowing smiles, especially when witnessing some very un-Cho-like behavior. It seemed the monarchs' reputations for charm were not exaggerated.

The rest of the royal entourage exited the limos: two ladies in waiting and the prince's valet, along with a social secretary and their personal security liaison.

Once the siblings and their assistants were safely ensconced in their respective suites, the CBI team met with the royal security man. He was a competent man, unwaveringly loyal to his charges, extremely concerned about the threats they'd received. They stood at a table in the lobby, going over and over the guest list, the notes on the workers and wait staff, the plans for securing the perimeter, and, most of all, the delicate matter of guarding the pair during the night's festivities.

"The prince and princess do not like intrusive or obvious body guards," stated the man simply known as Jeffries. "They expect all of you to mingle and to be dressed formally for the occasion. Behave like any other guest. Of course, your uniformed local police may patrol outside the reception, but inside, we want only your best, most discreet personnel."

"Understood," Lisbon concurred. "My team will be inside, along with one of our Federal agents, expected later at the party."

"Very well," agreed Jeffries. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to take my own walk around the mansion to get my bearings and assure myself that all is in place."

"Of course. We've posted uniforms at the doors of the prince and princess, and my people will make regular rounds until time for the reception."

"Thank you, Agent Lisbon. You all seem highly competent."

She nodded her thanks as the man went on his way, accompanied by Pine, the proprietor.

Lisbon heaved a sigh and looked at her fellow agents. "Well…this should be fun," she said tightly. "I trust you all brought your formal attire?" There were three variations of "Yeah, Boss."

"Okay, we have less than two hours until the reception," said Lisbon, glancing at her watch. "We'll take turns getting ready while the others patrol. Any questions?"

"Will we be allowed to dance?" asked Rigsby, already imagining holding the gorgeous princess in his arms.

All eyes turned to him in speculation. Lisbon almost grinned. "You heard the man—act like a guest. But only dance if you are asked. Otherwise, your primary attention should be on the royals and the behavior of the other attendees. And I shouldn't have to remind everybody, but absolutely no alcohol. Got it?" There was a definite warning in her eyes.

"Got it," they chorused.

"Cho, you get dressed first, then Van Pelt. Rigsby, I'll go last. We'll meet at the royal suites right before seven."

As the agents separated to begin the first of many patrols, Rigsby caught Cho's eye.

"I saw her first," Rigsby said childishly.

"Yeah, but then she saw me," replied Cho dryly.

"Fifty bucks says she'll ask me to dance first."

"Save your money. The lady obviously prefers muscles, and not the kind in the head."

"But I have big feet," Rigsby said proudly.

"That's an old wive's tale. I've seen you at the gym."

"Hey—"

But Cho had already headed down the hall to change in the room he shared with Rigsby. When the door closed behind him, he grinned to himself, then stood before the mirror on his closet door, flexing experimentally. _Easiest fifty dollars I'll ever make, _he said to himself confidently.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time Jane arrived, the reception was in full swing. The mansion was beautifully lit up in the evening darkness, and the strains of violins wafted out into the cool winter night. Jane allowed the parking attendant to take his car, and he flashed his CBI ID card to the policeman at the door. A lovely young woman stood beside the officer, checking Jane's name against a list.

"I'm sorry, sir, but a Patrick Jane is not on the guest list."

"I'm not a guest," he said patiently, smiling. "I'm with the CBI." He caught sight of Rigsby just emerging from the reception hall.

"Hey, Rigsby! Can you clear me over here?"

Rigsby looked up in surprise, then walked with long strides to the lobby, excusing himself often as he maneuvered between the late arriving guests.

"Jane. I wasn't expecting you."

"Well, Hightower suggested I come and try to get a bead on who might be issuing threats on the royal pains."

The woman with the clipboard, the royal social secretary, sniffed at Jane's characterization of her beloved monarchs.

"Sorry, no offense," Jane said unapologetically.

"Ha," snorted Rigsby. "You dog, you wrangled an invite so you could be in on the action. Lisbon said you weren't needed for this. Our detail is to guard them, not solve a case."

"Nevertheless…" Jane trailed off, straightening his tie. "I aim to make us all look good and save the day, as usual."

Rigsby laughed. "He's clear," he told the secretary before she could protest. "I can't wait to see Lisbon's expression when she sees you're here. Boy, is she gonna be pissed." They began walking back through the lobby.

"Well, she'll get over it quickly enough, you'll see."

Rigsby wouldn't bet on that one. He had a feeling the boss didn't want Jane there for fear of offending someone important. He grinned. The evening just got even more interesting.

Despite his outward confidence, Jane was in fact nervous that Lisbon would be mad at him, but he knew if he kissed her neck in just that way she liked, he'd be back on her good side in no time. He and Rigsby entered the octagon shaped pavilion, romantically lit with candles, scented with red roses in high vases atop the tables hugging the room's perimeter. The table linens were cream with hints of Tremanian red, and a small chamber orchestra played in one corner, old-fashioned waltzes and classical music that befitted the royal occasion. Several couples swirled in their finery

Holding court at the front of the room, the Prince and Princess of Tremania stood chatting with their guests. The prince wore the official dress uniform of the Tremania Royal Army, cream colored silk with red tie and understated gold trim. Princess Alana wore a red tea-length gown, strapless, with long, creamy white gloves. The royal diamonds sparkled at her neck. Her dark hair was partially piled atop her head, and a small tiara adorned her curls. They were both simply beautiful. Jane took it all in with his incredible eye for detail, dismissing everything and everyone present in mere seconds before his eyes lit upon the true object of his desire—Teresa Lisbon.

He watched her in the moments before she saw him, her understated beauty warming his heart as she competently scanned the crowd, mindful too of her charges near the front of the room. As she moved through the small crowd of perhaps one-hundred people, Jane's heart stopped as a handsome older man asked her to dance. She smiled, showing her dimples, and he felt relieved when she shook her head in refusal. The man inclined his head with a smile of disappointment before moving on toward the open bar. It was in that moment that she must have sensed she was being watched, for her sparkling green eyes veered straight for Jane's. He saw them go round with surprise, then abruptly narrow in anger. Of course, Jane's answering grin could outshine the California sun as he stood near the pavilion opening, letting her come to him.

"I thought you weren't coming," she nearly growled under her breath. "What happened to your _we've got the rest of our lives together _crap?"

"It's lovely to see you too, Lisbon," he countered with feeling, choosing to ignore her temper and focus on the beautiful picture she made. Her dress was a deep emerald shantung, halter style, flowing softly to her black high-heels. She hadn't taken the time to straighten her hair, so it hung in natural waves to her bare shoulders, just like he loved to see it on a Saturday after a morning spent in bed. At his smoldering gaze, her eyes softened, and she smiled a little.

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to sound so…mean. I just—well, it's been a long damn day, and I hate surprises, as you well know. I've been babysitting these twins all evening, and I really hadn't expected one more addition to my list."

"Ouch," he said mildly, not really hurt. And he had been expecting this reaction and more, to tell the truth.

"Jane," she said, looking around lest somebody hear their intimate conversation, "you're just so distracting to me, you're throwing me off my game here."

He smiled, and his face lit up with pleasure. "I'll take that as a complement," he said, his hand itching to take her hand, to touch her cheek, to kiss her soft lips. But he resisted. _See, I can be good._

"Not to mention the fact," she continued tightly, "that I never know what you're going to say to anyone, and the thought of you talking to actual royalty, important heads of state, is quite honestly terrifying to me."

"Awww…you're afraid I'll embarrass you."

"No, Jane, I'm afraid you might inadvertently start a war."

Now that one stung. His smiled dimmed considerably. "Oh. Well, I went over your head, Lisbon. Hightower sent me here to talk to Prince and Princess Charming, so I'm afraid you'll just have to have a little faith in me, despite your better judgment. I'm here to gain insight into the identity of their stalker."

She looked at him suspiciously. "You're kidding me. Why didn't she tell me?"

"Because I knew what your reaction would be and I told her not to."

"And she went along with this? What am I saying? Of course she went along with this. You're her golden boy, the mighty closer of cases, worth more to the CBI than my job and those of the rest of the team combined."

"You're just jealous 'cause Mom loves me best," he mocked. "Come on, sweetheart. It's like I told Madeleine, I can be good if I really try."

"I've yet to see it done, or I'd believe you. And I know you, Patrick Jane. I'm sure you smiled that charm the birds from the trees smile of yours and you had her eating right out of your hand."

Jane cocked his head in amusement. "So let me get this straight—Hightower's the bird in those two metaphors?"

This time she did growl, long and low and in extreme frustration. "I oughta punch you in the nose for doing this to me, tonight of all nights."

"Now, Lisbon—"

They had both been so wrapped up in their conversation that neither of them had noticed the approach of the prince and princess. Everyone else in the room whose eyes had followed every move the royal pair had made, now were focused on the softly bickering couple, oblivious to the approach of the monarchs.

"Ah-hem," came the clearing of Alexander's royal throat.

Lisbon stiffened, then colored to her hairline. She turned her head slightly to see the prince—the man she was supposed to be paying the most attention to tonight, looking upon her and Jane in amusement.

"Agent Lisbon, am I interrupting a lover's quarrel?"

"What? No, not at all. Uh, I apologize, Your Royal Highness-uh-_es_"—she nodded awkwardly to both—"allow me to present a newly arrived colleague from the CBI. Patrick Jane." Jane had to admire how quickly she pulled herself together. The prince held out his hand to shake Jane's politely, then the princess stepped closer to have her gloved hand gallantly kissed. The way the soft blush appeared on her delicate cheeks, even princesses were not immune to the sparkle in Patrick Jane's eyes.

"It's an honor to meet you both," Jane said.

"You certainly have handsome gentlemen working for you, Agent Lisbon," said the princess as she eyed Jane like Lisbon would a warm bearclaw. Lisbon had, of course, noticed how amazing he looked from the moment she saw Jane across the room, but her anger with him had gotten in the way of truly appreciating the man. Now, she attempted to see him through the eyes of the princess.

He was wearing a black tuxedo jacket and trousers, but his shirt, vest, and Windsor-knotted tie were stark white, enhancing the light tan he'd received from their day at the beach a few weeks ago. His blonde hair was brushed back from his face somewhat more than usual, allowing his blue-green eyes and white smile to dominate his features even more. He was as handsome as any prince, she realized. What's more, he was all hers. At that realization, a little chill passed through her, and Jane, so good at reading her, looked at her possessively.

The princess caught the look, but now that she'd spied the handsome consultant, she was going to take great pleasure in stealing him away from the CBI woman.

"Mr. Jane," she began, "dance with me…" It seemed more like an order, but Jane seized the opportunity to make Lisbon jealous. After all, she _was_ being rather mean to him. He inclined his head to the princess.

"With pleasure, Your Highness." He took her hand and the crowd cleared to witness the princess's first dance of the evening. Jane was aware of all eyes upon them as the quartet began yet another waltz, but he was particularly concerned with only one set of eyes, which were no doubt flashing green fire about now. _Serves her right,_ he thought spitefully, grinning at his dance partner.

"What is your job for the CBI?" asked Princess Alana.

"I'm a consultant, actually. I use various mentalist techniques to help them solve crimes."

"Really? You read minds?"

He chuckled. "No, but sometimes people might think I do. I'm just a quick study of human behavior."

"And what do your techniques tell you I'm thinking right now, Mr. Jane?" she asked suggestively, her hand on his shoulder becoming slightly more caressing.

He considered her a moment. "You're thinking that we Americans are dreadfully vulgar, this mansion terribly quaint, and you're slightly terrified of whomever is threatening you and your brother."

She raised a cool eyebrow, but he could tell by her brief stiffening in his arms that he'd hit the mark perfectly. "Very good, Mr. Jane. And how are your particular talents needed here as a bodyguard?"

"Oh, I'm not a bodyguard, Princess, I'm here to figure out who is terrorizing you."

She was quiet a moment and glanced over at her brother, who was leading Agent Lisbon to the dance floor. She mentally thanked him for knowing her so well; the princess had chosen the man who would share her bed tonight.

"Tell me," he continued, not commenting on her momentary distraction, "who would hate you enough to want to kill you?"

"_Vogue_ magazine, the Communist Party, and half the female population," she replied without even thinking about it.

He laughed out loud, drawing even more attention to the beautifully contrasting pair. Jane liked this woman already, and he had been fully prepared to despise everything about her. "You'll have to fill me in on the details tomorrow," he said when his mirth had subsided. "Those are some formidable enemies you have there."

She smiled mysteriously, then glanced again at the pretty, though less than extraordinary woman dancing with her brother. "How long have you and Agent Lisbon been lovers?" she asked Jane conversationally.

Jane's reaction was admirably bland. "Why would you think we were lovers?"

"I too am somewhat of an expert on human behavior, especially between the male and female of the species. Your discussion before we interrupted seemed too personal to be an argument among mere colleagues. Also, I saw the jealousy in her eyes when I swept you onto the dance floor."

Jane grinned. "You are perceptive, but you should leave the mind reading to the experts."

"Seriously," she said, as their dance was coming to an end, "I would like to talk further about these threats. Maybe, after the reception, you could come to my suite…"

He knew a come-on when he heard one. Still, a visit to the royal bedchamber could be beneficial to him in many ways. "As you wish, Your Highness. I will see you later tonight." He bowed over her hand in thanks for the dance, then escorted her back to her brother and Lisbon, who had just stepped off the floor as well. The prince looked pale and shaken.

"Agent Lisbon," he was murmuring tightly. "I'm suddenly not feeling well. Would you mind taking me to my room?"

"What is it, Alex," Alana asked in concern.

"Nothing. Maybe a bad canapé and too much champagne. I'll just lay down a few minutes. Stay here so no one will suspect something is wrong."

"Would you like me to get a doctor," asked Lisbon.

"No, please. I'll be fine."

Lisbon touched her ear piece, finding her other team members among the revelers. "I'm taking the prince to his room for a while. Stay in here with the princess."

"Will do Boss," answered Cho, the others seconding his remarks. She clicked off her receiver.

"Jane, you stay here too. And try to stay out of trouble."

"But shouldn't someone else go with you?" he asked.

"No. There are uniforms at his door; we'll be alright."

Jane didn't like this at all, and as he caught Cho's eye, he knew the agent wasn't too happy with it either.

"Feel better, Alex," the princess said as Lisbon and the prince began to slowly make their way out of the pavilion. She turned to Jane.

"Will she be able to take care of him?" she asked, fear making her accent seem thicker.

"Yes. Lisbon is quite competent, plus she likely has a gun strapped to her thigh."

She smiled, as he intended. "I suppose I should mingle a little more."

"Yes, he nodded. I'll check on them if they don't come back soon," he said. She nodded in appreciation.

"I like you, Patrick Jane," she said sincerely, fleetingly touching his arm.

"I like you too, Princess."

"My name is Alana," she whispered enticingly, and left him to stare after her in amusement.

With the cat away, Jane wandered over to Van Pelt to ask her to dance. The redhead was lovely in blue silk and willingly joined Jane as the orchestra played on. They were in the middle of small talk about the royals and the beauty of the mansion when Grace started in surprise at the newest couple to enter the pavilion-Madeleine Hightower and FBI Special Agent Craig O'laughlin, who just happened to be Van Pelt's boyfriend.

"So he's the man the Feds were sending over to supervise," said Jane, enjoying Grace's expression of excitement. "Lucky you."

"Yes," she grinned, having caught O'laughlin's eye. "Lucky me. And I also didn't know Hightower was planning to attend. She looks beautiful in purple though, doesn't she?"

Jane was nodding to their gorgeous boss, who was scanning the room with a critical eye. "She does indeed." By this time, O'laughlin had made his way over to Grace, and Jane smiled when he felt the g-man tapping his shoulder.

"May I cut in?"

"Of course," Jane smiled. Van Pelt grinned apologetically, but wasn't about to pass up the chance to dance with the sexy agent. Jane acceded gracefully, moving off the floor in search of Cho. To his surprise, he was now dancing with Princess Alana, actually smiling and chatting her up like he'd known her for years. Jane noticed Rigbsy leaning against the wall in the back of the room, silently fuming as he watched his partner romancing the Princess of Tremania. Jane joined him.

"So," Jane began, "how much are you out?"

"Fifty bucks," he replied, eyes never leaving the pair on the floor.

"You can't fight those Cho dimples," Jane said by way of consolation.

"I think it was the muscles this time. I really need to work out more. Hey, you think Lisbon and the prince are okay?"

It had only been about ten minutes, but Jane was getting antsy. "I don't know. I think I'll go check."

Rigsby laughed, having watched Lisbon's reaction when she'd first seen Jane there. "I told you she'd be pissed off with you."

"Yeah, maybe I should find her and do some major ass kissing," he said with a smirk.

"Couldn't hurt," replied Rigsby. "Hey, Jane, spot me a fifty?"

But Jane only laughed as he went off in search of his wayward Lisbon.

A/N: So now that all the players have arrived on the stage, the fun can really begin. I hope it will be worth the wait. And please forgive any liberties I took with the layout of the mansion (an actual place) or with royal etiquette. My only excuse on that score is that I'm one of those vulgar Americans, lol. In spite of that, can you spot me a review? I'd love to know how I'm doing so far. Thanks ever so!

*In CB slang, a _paperhanger_ is basically a traffic cop who hands out tickets. _Bears _are police, so of course the _Bear Cave_ is headquarters. I grew up playing on my brother's CB radio. My handle was Sister Sue, in case you were wondering…


	3. Royal Flush

A/N: I'm so touched by all the great reviews of my first two chapters. I hope you keep enjoying this story. I'm really having fun with it. Now, for some silliness, and yes, I did watch a lot of "Three's Company" growing up. Yes, I'm that old.

Part of this chapter might be considered "M" to some, so be warned.

**Chapter 3: Royal Flush**

Jane walked down the hall, the sound of the music fading behind him, fingering the pass key he'd lifted off of Rigsby. Instead of the uniformed officer he'd expected to be waiting outside the prince's suite, there stood Lisbon, waiting patiently by the door. He pocketed the key card.

"I take it the prince is indisposed. So he's really sick, eh? I figured he was just trying to lure you into his bedroom."

Lisbon shrugged, still mad at him. "You have a devious, perverted mind," she said coldly.

"I thought you liked that about me."

She ignored him. "He's in there resting. I let the guard take a break."

"Nice of you."

She shrugged again, avoiding his eyes.

"Come on, Lisbon," he said, making those three words sound unbelievably sexy. He leaned in more closely, backing her against the hardwood door, but not touching her. His spicy cologne tantalized her senses, wearing down her resistance. "You can't be mad at me forever."

"Watch me," she said, looking around to make sure no one was watching _them_. He grinned at her stubbornness, but he certainly wasn't giving up. With one finger, he gently turned her chin so she would be forced to face him, but she closed her eyes obstinately. Chuckling softly, he leaned in and let his lips alight on her cheek, then move up to her ear. She didn't push him away, which was a very good sign, and she shivered as he circled the shell of her ear with his tongue—another good sign.

"Stop," she whispered half-heartedly.

"No," he whispered back, feeling her tremble again as his warm breath filled her ear. "I can't resist a beautiful woman," he said, moving back down to skate his lips along her jaw.

"I noticed," she breathed. "You seemed to enjoy dancing with the princess."

"I was trying to make you jealous. Did it work?"

"No. I—"

"Liar."

And then he captured her mouth, drowning her words with his full lips, slipping his warm tongue inside to tangle with hers. She reached up to grab hold of his shoulders in case her legs buckled beneath her. He pulled her into his arms and took his time, building up the tension, reveling in the soft mewling noises rising in her throat as his kissed her.

When they were both panting with desire, he pulled away briefly. "Let's go to your room," he said persuasively.

"No, Jane, I'm supposed to be working."

"The guard will be back in a minute. I promise it won't take long."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's an enticing offer."

He smiled. "You know it is. I can tell by your pulse that it won't take long for either one of us."

They heard laughter down the hall, and Lisbon panicked to think someone might catch them together this way. "Here," she whispered, reaching into her cleavage. "Take my key. I'll meet you inside in five minutes. Room four." Jane grinned at her resourcefulness.

"What else are you keeping in there?"

"Oh hush and take the damn card."

Jane held up a key of his own, and she rolled her eyes. She knew for a fact he hadn't been authorized to receive a pass key.

"Don't be late," he called, walking backwards down the hall.

The moment Jane disappeared into her room the prince's door opened, and His Royal Highness himself appeared before her. He really did seem to be sick.

"Agent Lisbon. I thought I heard talking out here. Could you give me your help? I can't get this blasted tie off." He was perspiring and very pale.

"Sure. Where's your valet?" He stood before her in his dress shirt, slacks, and bare feet, obviously having attempted but failed to unknot his tie.

"I have no idea. I guess he felt since he wasn't needed, he's visiting with the kitchen staff."

"Would you like me to call him?"

"No, but if you wouldn't mind-" And he held out his tie in frustration. She followed him inside, the door closing with a soft click behind them.

Lisbon stood before this outrageously handsome man, her mind still focusing on the other outrageously handsome man waiting for her in her room down the hall. What was a girl to do? She grinned to herself and set to work on the knot, employing her fingernails to find a flap to loosen and pull out. She could feel his neck beneath her hand, the skin hot and clammy.

Unbeknownst to the pair inside the prince's suite, Van Pelt stood just outside their door, ready to knock since Lisbon was nowhere in sight and the guard had apparently gone missing. But then she heard her boss's voice, and the prince's answering words. She pressed her ear to the door, her eyes widening as their conversation took an unexpected turn.

Inside, Lisbon grunted a little with effort. "You're wound up so tight, I don't know how I'm gonna get it off."

"Just pull on it harder," he said, his voice sounding breathless and sick. Part of her difficulty was that he was so much taller than her-even in heels-not to mention the fact that she was still shaking a little from Jane's recent kisses.

"Let's move this to the bed." She led him by the tie to the king-size bed and they sat on the end together. She inadvertently touched his skin again. "Your Highness, you are so hot," she exclaimed.

Van Pelt smiled to herself, her face flushing at the prince's breathless tone and Lisbon's answering grunts.

_Way to go, Boss! _

Van Pelt tiptoed back down the hall to return to the reception, a secret smile lighting her face.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

With one last pull, Lisbon freed the prince from the confining tie, and he fell back on the bed, exhausted by the effort.

"Thank you," he said, lying back on the bed gratefully.

"Let me get you a glass of water," she said, moving to the wet bar and opening the mini fridge to find a bottled water. She opened it and poured some into a tumbler, then brought it to the prince.

"I really think I should call someone. I hate leaving you like this. Maybe your sister, or your valet?"

"No. Please, just let me rest. I'll be fine." He sat up to drink the water, then fell right back down.

"Okay," she said, taking the glass. She still intended to check on him in a little while. She remembered Jane would be waiting for her. "Please, send for me or someone else if you need anything. I'll make your excuses."

"Thank you, Teresa. You are an angel of mercy."

"I hope you feel better soon," she said, shutting the door behind her. By this time, the officer had returned. He looked a little surprised to see Lisbon emerge from the prince's room, but he made no comment. He'd never understand the ways of young people today.

"The prince is ill. You might listen closely in case he calls for anything."

"Yes ma'am," he said politely, wondering if that was just some cheap way to cover up what she'd been doing in that room with a prince. Why, if she were _his_ daughter…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The moment Lisbon keyed open the door to her room she was attacked by a very randy Jane.

"You're late," he chided, as he determinedly moved them toward the four-poster bed, his hands wasting no time going up to where her halter buttoned beneath her hair. He pulled the silky material down to reveal that she wore no bra beneath the backless dress, and he feasted his eyes on her beautiful breasts with delight. Then he feasted on them with his mouth. She moaned at the heavenly sensation, and he hurriedly lowered her to the bed, mindful that Lisbon's shot clock had probably started ticking off the seconds.

"God, how I want you," he murmured.

Her hands went to his head, guiding his movements and shivering as his soft hair tickled her chest. He moved up to her ear, nuzzling near her earpiece. And she brought that talented mouth back to hers as his hands began pulling up her long dress…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Inside the pavilion, Rigsby had finally landed his dance with the princess, Cho was vigilantly watching the crowd, and Van Pelt and O'laughlin stood together near the entryway, monitoring the comings and goings of the attendees. Despite the loudness of the orchestra, the CBI members were able to hear a sudden, slightly muffled transmission. The voice they heard in their ears could only have been Agent Lisbon's.

"Oh yes…keep doing that! Oh God…right there. Awww…"

There was a lot of heavy masculine breathing, some soft moans of ecstasy. Each team member paused, pressing on their own earpieces to bring the sound more privately to their ears. They caught each others' eyes around the room, and their collective smiles were wide and knowing. Apparently, Lisbon's communicator had somehow locked on _speak, _because she obviously couldn't hear the party. On the contrary, nothing seemed to discourage her from fully enjoying herself.

"Watch out for my gun…" Lisbon said breathlessly to her lover. Rigsby actually snorted in the princess's face.

"Agent Rigsby," said the Princess sternly, unused to having someone's attention divided, especially when in her arms. She repeated his name more forcefully, and Rigsby blushed, remembered himself, and tried to pay better attention to his partner.

"Sorry, Your Highness. Just a…uh…transmission from my boss."

"You're very flushed. Are you quite alright?" But she seemed more annoyed than concerned. When Lisbon suddenly gave a particularly loud cry, Rigsby nearly stumbled over his own big feet.

"Yes! Oh God! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Is there something wrong with Alexander?" asked Princess Alana in mounting concern for the agent's unusual behavior, and his rapt attention to the voice in his ear.

"Huh? Oh, no. I'm sure everything is fine." By this time, the dance had ended, and Rigsby had succeeded in thoroughly insulting the princess, for she didn't even thank him for the dance, leaving him standing by himself on the dance floor. Rigsby practically ran to join Cho and Grace.

"Who's she with?" he asked them without preamble.

"I know," said Grace mysteriously, her face as rosy as Rigsby's.

"What's going on?" asked O'laughlin curiously.

"Lisbon's mic is transmitting something…well…something very private," Grace told him, grinning like a child on her birthday.

"Who is it?" O'laughlin echoed. He hadn't known Lisbon long, but something told him such antics were highly unusual for the senior agent.

"It's Jane," Cho said simply.

"No it's not! It's…" and she looked around lest someone overhear her. "It's the prince!" she hissed.

"What? No way!" Rigsby exclaimed.

"Is there something amiss?" asked Madeleine Hightower. She'd joined her team upon seeing their suspicious huddle near the door. Simultaneously, Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt all tapped their earpieces, effectively shutting off Lisbon's moans of pleasure.

"No, ma'am," answered Cho, the very definition of calm under fire. He was also an expert at improvisation. "We just had a malfunction in our ear pieces. We've been picking up some outside interference."

"Where's Lisbon?" asked the boss of their boss. "I haven't seen her since she escorted the prince out."

"She was giving his guard a break," Van Pelt spoke up, protective as always of her immediate supervisor. "I'm sure she'll be coming any second."

The moment the words left her mouth, Rigsby gave a strangled cry, which rapidly turned into a helpless cough. Cho reached out to helpfully pound his back. Grace's face was now the color of her hair, and she smiled in embarrassment at her unintentional innuendo. O'laughlin was trying valiantly not to laugh.

Hightower looked around at the faces of her underlings, her suspicious nature rightly deducing that there was definitely something rotten in the state of California. Her pleasant, society face suddenly became an annoyed scowl. "Where's Jane?" she asked. If there was trouble, he had to be involved somehow.

At their blank faces, she shook her head. "Don't you think you should be watching Jane just as much as the royal twins? God only knows what mess he's gotten himself into." She sighed, her eyes searching the crowd for a familiar head of curly blonde hair, wanting to kick herself for giving in to that charming smile of his.

"I'll find him," said Cho. He had his suspicions of just whom it really was that Lisbon was having fun with, and he was pretty sure Lisbon and Jane knew he knew of their undercover romance. The least he could do was try to warn them before they got caught with their pants down.

"No," Hightower overruled. "I need to get some air. I'll go." Of course they all knew she meant that she really needed to go outside and smoke a cigarette. "You guys, get back to work. You have a princess to babysit."

As soon as she left them, Van Pelt pulled out her phone.

"What are you doing?" asked Rigsby.

"Texting Lisbon. If Hightower makes a stop at the prince's suite, she's in big trouble."

"How do you know that's where she is?" asked Cho.

"Because I heard them when I was about to knock on his door. They were both in there, alright, and they weren't playing chess."

"Huh," said Cho noncommittally. He couldn't believe he could be so wrong. But just in case, while Van Pelt texted Lisbon, Cho sent one to Jane.

"I guess that's all we can do," said Van Pelt worriedly. "With the boss's earpiece stuck on _speak, _we can't warn her that way."

The wind out of their sails now with worry about Lisbon's risk of discovery, the quartet broke apart and tried to focus on doing their jobs. Of course, that's when they all noticed that Princess Alana was nowhere to be seen…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon lay back on the bed, watching dazedly as Jane unzipped his fly. He was grinning at her like he'd just scored a three-pointer to win the game, and Lisbon had to admit the pleasure he'd given her with just his mouth was tantamount to winning a national championship. But now it was his turn, and she shivered in anticipation of how wonderful it would be to feel him inside of her. He was reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, when Lisbon sat up on her elbows, giving him a mischievous grin.

"What?" he asked, trying to decipher her expression.

"You won't need those anymore," she said, indicating the condom wrapper he was about to tear open. "I'm on the pill now."

For a minute, he looked slightly disappointed. "No more tea for two?"  
She chuckled softly. "Nope. I don't want anything coming between us anymore."

His triumphant smile returned. "Why Agent Lisbon, you really _are_ a bad girl."

"Take those pants off and I'll show you just how bad I can be."

Jane was doing just that when his cell phone announced an incoming text. He chose to ignore it.

"That might be important," Lisbon said. She glanced fleetingly at her own phone on the bedside table. The battery was dead and she'd forgotten her charger.

"Meh," Jane scoffed, leaning forward on the bed with his pants half off. "What could be more important than—"

The sound of a key card sliding on the door made Lisbon sit up so suddenly, she knocked Jane on his partially bare ass.

"Someone's coming in!" she hissed. "Let's get in the bathroom—quick!"

Jane struggled to get up from his awkward position on the floor, and Lisbon reached down to give him a hand up, remembering to grab his discarded tuxedo jacket. They both stumbled crazily into the bathroom, shutting and locking it the moment they were inside. Jane grinned as he finished pulling his pants back up. He looked at Lisbon, whose halter was still down, her breasts uncovered and heaving. She made no move to cover herself, which made his grin widen even more.

"_Who the hell could that be_?" she panted.

"Lisbon?" came the voice of Madeleine Hightower.

Jane and Lisbon looked at each other in surprise.

"_Oh my God! Why is she in my room?" _Lisbon whispered frantically.

The knock on the bathroom door made her jump, and she reached out to cover Jane's mouth to stifle his bark of laughter.

"In here, ma'am," she made herself answer as calmly as she could through the door, given the circumstances. Jane moved behind her, pulling her back to his chest as if to comfort her. Then, of course, he reached up to cup her breasts, watching the tantalizing picture they made in the vanity mirror.

"_Stop!" _She slapped his naughty hands away.

"I got the key from the manager-Pine I think it is?" Hightower was saying. "I guess we're roomies for the weekend, given the small number of guest rooms here. Hope that won't be a problem. We'll toss for who gets the couch."

Lisbon cringed, reaching up to refasten her halter. Jane helped by holding up her hair, his reflected smile as big as Texas.

"Of course not. No problem at all."

"We were starting to worry about you. Is the prince alright?"

"I think he has some sort of a cold or something. I was about to call his valet."

"Great. He has to get sick in _our_ city. We should probably call the doctor just to cover our asses."

"It's your call, Boss."

"Are you almost finished in there," she asked. "I really need to use the bathroom."

"Uh…" Jane was nibbling now on her neck beneath her hair, his hands sliding up and down her hips. "_Quit it!" _she chastised.

"What?" asked Hightower from the other side of the door.

"Nothing. I'll be out in a minute."

She combed her tousled hair with her fingers, then wiped a smear of lipstick from the corner of her mouth. She gestured to Jane that he should get in the bathtub and hide behind the shower curtain. He shook his head, mouthing: _No way!_

_You want her to catch us? _They communicated through exaggerated gestures and overly enunciated, soundless words.

_No!_

_Then get in there, dammit!_

Jane shrugged and did as he was told, while Lisbon slowly and soundlessly closed the curtain behind him. As an afterthought, Lisbon flushed the toilet and washed her hands. She was about to leave when she saw Jane's jacket on the floor and tossed it inside the tub without looking.

_Hey! _He whispered, in pain.

Taking a deep breath and putting on what she hoped was a serene expression, Lisbon unlocked and opened the bathroom door.

"I came back to the room to change my shoes," Hightower said upon seeing her roommate. "These new heels are killing me. I guess the bellman put my bag in the closet for me."

At that moment, Lisbon was very glad she hadn't chosen the closet as their hiding place.

Hightower had kicked off her shoes and was rooting around in the duffle bag on the floor for a pair of black ballerina flats. She slipped them on in relief.

"That's better. I swear, the cost of beauty is just too high sometimes." She walked past her subordinate, who was standing in the middle of the room at loose ends, a little in shock at this sudden, unexpected turn of events.

"Yes, ma'am," Lisbon responded absently. As Hightower closed the bathroom door, Lisbon heard the rustling of the other woman's dress, then the unmistakable noises of her boss using the restroom. She flushed with embarrassment for Jane's sake, then couldn't help the bubble of laughter that rose into her throat at his predicament.

"Have you seen Jane?" Hightower called.

"No," she lied, trying to hide her hysterical laughter. "But I'm sure he hasn't gone far." She could see him in her mind's eye, trying to stifle his own reaction while he stood fully dressed in a bathtub. The thought of him in there while their boss did her business with just a curtain between them made her want to laugh even harder. She bit her lip to stop herself. The toilet finally flushed, the water ran a moment, and Lisbon found herself holding her breath, praying that Hightower wouldn't be curious enough to peep into the bathtub. After all, that was one of the first things Lisbon always did when she came into a hotel room. She loved baths.

The gods must have been smiling on them, for she'd heard no scream of fright or the subsequent beating she would have given Jane had she discovered a surprise guest in her bathtub. Just as Hightower came out of the bathroom, Lisbon noticed Jane's shoes on the floor beside the bed. Her eyes widened as she tried to move casually over to them, toeing them beneath the bedspread before Hightower caught sight of them.

"Well, we need to find out what he's up to before he lands himself in trouble. You ready to get back to that god-awful party?" asked her boss. "I mean, couldn't they throw in a little Marvin Gaye or something into the mix? I mean, who still dances to that classical crap? God, I need a cigarette…"

Lisbon had no choice but to follow Hightower out of their room, leaving Jane alone, frustrated, with uncomfortably wet socks.

A/N: The night is still young…still more fun and sticky situations ahead. Please let me know what you think!


	4. Royal Bitch

A/N: Your reviews continue to flatter and inspire me! Thanks so much for taking the time. This chapter isn't quite as silly as the last, but it paves the way for more to come. I hope you like it.

**Chapter 4: Royal Bitch**

"Why was I not informed immediately of His Highness's illness?" asked Jeffries, the royal security liaison, of Agent Hightower. He met Lisbon and her boss right outside the pavilion, having been notified of the prince's exit by overhearing other attendees discussing it. Naturally, he was furious. He'd been making rounds outside the mansion, and had trusted American law enforcement to take care of a Tremanian

"I'm sorry, sir. I take full responsibility," replied Hightower. "Agent Lisbon escorted the prince to his suite and we were just on our way to notify a physician."

Cho came out into the lobby in search of his bosses. He'd drawn the short straw and had to inform them of their loss of the princess.

"Princess Alana gave us the slip," he told them. "No one answered in her suite."

"What?" exclaimed Jeffries. "I cannot believe this! You have lost both of them. That is it! We are bringing all our own people for security next time we travel. We were told that in California, they knew something here of protecting the famous. Now, before we have an unfortunate diplomatic incident, Agent Hightower, I suggest your people find our princess, or there will surely be hell to pay."

"Of course. Cho, start widening the search, inform the uniforms, keep the guests inside the pavilion until she's found."

"Yes, Boss."

Jeffries went off to check on the prince, and Hightower looked like her head was about to explode.

"Dammit! Where the hell is Jane?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane was taking off his wet socks in Lisbon and Hightower's bathroom and drying his feet on a towel. He put the wet socks in the wastebasket, covering them with a wad of toilet paper. He cringed at the idea of no socks in his shoes, but he hated even more the thought of walking around in wet socks the rest of the night. _The things I do for love._

He tried to block out the memory of Hightower using the facilities right beside him, just as he had tried to block the personal noises she'd made by putting his fingers in his ears and pretending he was at Niagara Falls. It didn't help much, and he feared the experience might have scarred him for life. He'd have to think of a way to make Lisbon pay for that bit of discomfort, along with his ruined socks. Not to mention his still nagging feelings of…unfulfillment.

With that pleasant prospect in mind, Jane tucked in his shirt, washed his face and hands with a grin, slipped on his jacket, straightened his tie, shrugged at his messy, curly hair that he could never fully tame anyway, and slipped on his shoes with a grimace. He peeped out into the hallway and saw a man going into the prince's room, then he saw the princess peeking out the door of the adjoining suite. He hadn't realized the prince's room was next to Alana's, but he guessed it made sense; twins were usually closer than other siblings. She caught his eye with a grin, crooking her finger at him to come to her suite.

Here was his chance to question her about who might be threatening them. So Jane grinned in return, and casually walked down the hall. She'd left the door open and he slipped inside. Upon seeing him, the princess excused her ladies in waiting, who curtsied to their monarch and grinned knowingly at Jane on their way out the door. He knew what they were thinking—the princess had chosen her concubine for the evening. Before Jane had even the chance to say hello, a knock came at the door.

"Please," said the princess, lounging on the antique fainting couch, "tell whomever it is I'm not available."

"As you wish, Your Highness," said Jane, moving to the door.

It was Rigsby.  
"Jane," said the tall agent, in some surprise.

"Hello, Rigsby. The princess is indisposed."

A slow grin spread across his face, and while Rigsby would have given anything to be with the princess on the other side of that door, he was happy for Jane to be getting some for a change. It was long overdue, if you asked him.

"Well, uh, I guess she's in good hands here. I'll call off the search."

"The search?" inquired Jane, glancing over his shoulder at the princess.

"I became bored," she called, her eyes closed, "tell Jeffries to keep his head; I just needed some time to myself."

"She didn't tell anyone she was leaving, and we were so wrapped up in, uh, _other things_, she got past us somehow."

"What other things?" Rigsby was obviously trying to hold onto a huge, likely salacious secret, and Jane's natural curiosity got the better of him. When Rigsby hesitated, Jane stepped out into the hall, holding the heavy door open with one foot. "You may as well tell me now what's going on. You know I'll just figure it out eventually."

Rigsby chuckled. "Lisbon is bangin' the prince."

"Huh?" Jane was not often taken off guard, but this was certainly news to him. "How do you figure that?"he said, forcing his reaction to be neutral.

"We heard it. We _all_ heard it. She had her earpiece in and the team heard her in _flagrante delicto, _screaming like a banshee. It was totally hilarious."

Of course, Jane immediately realized what had happened, and he smiled in something akin to pride. He searched his memory, trying to recall if Lisbon had screamed his name; she usually did in such moments. No, he was fairly sure no names had been used.

"And you believe it was the prince, you say?"

"Yeah, she'd just taken him back to his room, remember?"

"Hmmm…interesting. Well, good for Lisbon. She deserves a good shag now and then."

"Don't we all, buddy," he said suggestively, glancing over Jane's shoulder through the crack in the doorway. "I'll just leave you two alone. I want details later." This last was said in a conspiratorial whisper, wink included.

"Oh," said Jane, pushing the door back open. "I'll tell you all about it." He shut the door on Rigsby's expectant gaze, then turned to the princess.

"May I?" he asked, indicating the wingback chair near where Alana reclined.

She nodded. "Trouble?" she asked, only mildly curious.

"Yes, Your Highness. Seems you've stirred up quite a frenzy out there. Makes things very difficult for the poor souls sent to guard you."

She recognized chastisement when she heard it, though _Lord knows she hasn't heard much of it in her lifetime,_ thought Jane.

"You try being watched twenty-four hours a day, Mr. Jane, and you'll start to feel differently, I'm sure."

"Maybe. But might we get to the reason I'm here…"

She regarded him with her lovely dark eyes, abruptly sitting up from her reclining position and sliding on the couch so she was closer to his chair. "Yes. You wanted to ask me some questions?" But he could tell by the way she blushed lightly, and the way her eyes dilated when looking at him, that questions about death threats were the last things on her mind.

"Yes. Okay, I'll ask you again—and no sarcasm this time," he said, raising a finger when he saw the mischievous gleam in her eyes. "First name that comes to mind when thinking who might want to threaten you and your brother?"

"Jeffries," she proclaimed without hesitating.

"Who?"

"Our security liason. You must not have met him. He doesn't like the fact that when our father dies, Alex and I will be king and queen of Tremania. He's embarrassed by us, resents the love our people have for us, despite our so-called scandalous lifestyles. Oh, and then there is the wee fact that Alex slept with his daughter…and I with his son." She tried to look abashed by her actions, but failed miserably, for she was obviously trying to make him aware of her sexual prowess.

Jane regarded her a moment with much amusement. "I can see why he might be suspect number one. Tell me exactly what the threats have been, how they've been delivered."

"Letters have come by regular post, separate ones for both Alex and me. Typed, of course, and unsigned. Each letter warned that we must abdicate our thrones or the other will be harmed." Here, he saw the first genuine emotion he'd seen from her since her concern for her brother's health earlier. Her eyes watered, and she reached up to shakily wipe at her heavily mascaraed eyes. Jane reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a snowy white handkerchief. She took it gratefully.

"And who stands in line to the throne, should you and your brother give it up?"

She looked up at him suddenly, realization dawning. "Why, our cousin, course."

"The one throwing you this reception?"

"Yes," she breathed. "He was exiled from Tremania twenty years ago after some horrible disagreement with my father. They have since reconciled, but Cousin Max chose to remain in California. When he heard of our visit to the States, he insisted on giving us this reception. Mr. Jane, you don't think…"

"I don't know, Princess. I would have to talk to him, of course. And what's Cousin Max's relationship with Jeffries?"

"They're on good terms, I suppose. Jeffries has been with my family for years."

Armed with some good information, Jane got to his feet; he had a royal cousin to speak to. Alana rose as well, moving to stand before Jane. _Here it comes, _he thought, with something akin to dread.

"Thank you…Patrick," said the princess, insinuating herself into his personal space. In high heels, they were of a height, and her tear-bright eyes bore into his. _Trying to steal my soul, no doubt._ Her hands touched his as she flicked her eyes briefly to his lips in invitation, her pink tongue slipping out to lick her own full bottom lip. "Won't you stay a while longer?" she whispered. "I could send for some champagne…"

"I'm sorry, Princess," he murmured, blue-green eyes gone soft with genuine apology. He held up his left hand, where his wedding band glinted in the low light, trying to tamp down how wrong his old standby rebuff now seemed. "I'm taken. But I'm flattered by the offer." He closed his eyes and made to kiss her consolingly on the cheek.

But the princess was nothing if not tenacious, turning her head quickly to meet his lips with her own. Jane felt her hands in his hair as she pulled him in to try to deepen the kiss. Jane's own hands came up to latch onto her slim upper arms, but she became like a tigress, and he realized that he must simply wait it out or he might hurt the girl. Neither of them heard the adjoining door open, nor the soft gasp at the vision of the princess and the CBI consultant apparently locked in a passionate embrace. The door closed silently again while Alana's seduction attempt continued.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon leaned back against the prince's side of the adjoining door, heart pounding at what she had witnessed. She tried to analyze what she'd seen with an investigator's eye. Jane's back had been to her, so she couldn't see his face, but his hands were on her arms and the princess was kissing him intently, her royal fingers buried in those soft curls Lisbon knew and loved so much. He might not have seemed totally into it, but he certainly wasn't fighting it.

"I can't believe this," she said to herself.

But there was no denying what she'd seen with her own eyes. She momentarily considered barging back in and demanding an explanation, but she didn't want him trying to charm his way out of this one. No, she thought, it would be best to talk to him calmly, rationally. Let him explain how those lips that had so recently pressed to hers (among other places) were currently fused with the mouth of a royal bitch who went through men like she did designer lingerie.

Lisbon's eyes went to the closed bedroom door of Prince Alexander, who was currently being examined by a doctor attending the reception. Under Jeffries's careful supervision, of course. Hightower had ordered she escort the honored physician to the prince's suite. When the prince had asked that she go on into the princess's adjoining rooms to check on his sister, she was happy to oblige the ailing young man. She'd been so intent on her errand that she'd simply forgotten to knock, and the door had been unlocked; apparently there were no secrets between the siblings.

In the back of her mind, Lisbon knew she really had no reason to doubt Jane's love and commitment to her, but that didn't make her less pissed off that he'd allowed himself to fall prey to the maneater in the next room. The memory of Jane's hands and lips on another woman made Lisbon want to open that door and punch him into next week. She'd moved to do just that when she suddenly stopped, hand frozen on the doorknob. No, she thought. Violence wasn't the answer here. Revenge. Revenge was a concept that Patrick Jane understood well. Indeed, it was like a religion with him.

Lisbon smiled to herself. Anyone watching the senior agent might have mistaken her grin as evil and conniving. They wouldn't have been far from the truth.

A/N: Now what, pray tell, might Lisbon do to get back at Jane? You'll just have to wait for the next chapter, I suppose. And the next chapter should also be longer, I promise. In the meantime, feedback will feed my muse, so please don't hesitate. And if you want to read my response, please make sure you log in before you review, and make sure you're allowing personal messages. If you've never gotten a response from me to your reviews, that is probably why. I do respond to every logged-in, pm-enabled review. Thanks in advance!

Oh, and I don't normally do this, but I stumbled onto this parody video on of Jisbon moments on the show and of Jisbon fanfiction. It has some bad language and makes fun of Hitler, so if that's not your cup of tea, avoid this hilarious video at all costs.

.com/watch?v=sWKbs4k21fw


	5. Battle Royal

A/N: Thanks for everyone who is reading and reviewing this fic, and for those going back to read my previous stories. You guys are the greatest! Hope you like this chapter. It has a little bit of everything. It's also quite a bit longer than usual, since I'm on Spring Break right now and have more time. I might even write another later in the week! Hope you don't mind…

**Chapter 5: Battle Royal**

Even a spoiled princess couldn't fight an unresponsive man, so after a few moments of lifeless reaction, Alana pulled away from Jane, flushed and trembling with a mixture of rage and embarrassment.

"I apologize," Jane said dryly. "I didn't mean to lose my head like that."

"Get out," she growled. "Go back to that mousy Agent Lisbon and your poor, unsuspecting wife!" Jane knew that look well, which was his clearly his cue to leave. He stepped quickly to the door, but, being Patrick Jane, he couldn't resist giving some parting advice.

"Oh, next time you kiss someone, Princess, a little less tongue, at least at first, might be preferable. And try to control your saliva production. Frankly, I feel like I've been mauled by a St. Bernard." He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. At her furious expression, he slipped hastily out the door.

If Jane had to speculate, the hard thump against the door behind him was likely caused by a woman's shoe. He thought a moment, then, when a second bang followed the first, he nodded to himself.

_Yes, definitely a shoe. Size six, would be my guess._

The two sentries assigned to guard the royals' doors were standing between the suites, giving Jane a suspicious look, given the two loud crashes from inside the princess's rooms. Fortunately for him, the SPD officers recognized him.

"Lover's spat," he explained. He rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb toward the door. "Women! Talk about a _princess_!"

The guards chuckled, as he'd intended.

"See ya later, Mr. Jane."

"Have a good evening, gentlemen."

He put on his sunniest smile, whistling softly as he casually walked toward the sound of distant violins.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Jane glanced into the pavilion, he noted that the crowd seemed somewhat more subdued now that the guests of honor had vacated the party. He found the CBI team milling about in the lobby-everyone except Lisbon.

Rigsby sidled over to him immediately, and Jane grinned inside at the agent's pitying expression.

"That didn't take long," he said, not hiding his disappointment in him as a man.

"Well, I can guarantee it was an unforgettable experience for both of us. And it's quality, not quantity, if you know what I mean."

This seemed to mollify him a little, but before he could suitably reply, Madeleine Hightower was standing before them, her arms crossed in what Jane termed to himself, _principal mode_. He always felt that he'd been summoned to the principal's office whenever he sat before her desk, a situation he'd been in often enough during his spotty elementary education.

"Madeleine," he grinned. "I bet those flats are much more comfortable than those heels you had on earlier. The cost of beauty is too high a price to pay, in my humble opinion."

Hightower evaluated Jane's innocent expression, taken aback at hearing what sounded like her own words from earlier in her guest room. The man was too damn perceptive for his own good sometimes. But, as he often did, he'd gotten her off track.

"Well…yes. Where the hell have you been?" she asked, remembering herself.

Rigsby awaited his answer with interest.

"I was with the princess," he said truthfully. "She helped me narrow down a couple of suspects for her death threats." Then, for Rigsby's benefit: "She didn't seem to mind being pumped. For uh, information, I mean."

Rigsby's eyes widened, and he covered his sudden laugh with his hand. Cho, Van Pelt, and O'Laughlin soon joined them.

"Where's Lisbon?" asked Jane.

"She's busy with the prince," replied Hightower obliviously. She ignored the team's smirks, no longer caring about the strange undertones among them this evening. Having once been a junior agent herself, she recognized the merits of having inside jokes the boss didn't know about. And besides, she was still reeling from the argument she'd had with her husband earlier that day when she'd had to cancel their dinner plans tonight. Bertram's last minute order to come to this blasted function was probably the last straw for her marriage. She was glad someone was having fun tonight. And she never did have that cigarette.

"The party seems to be breaking up," Cho observed, watching as the guests began leaving in a steady stream.

"They came to rub elbows with royalty," said Van Pelt. "They must be very disappointed."

"From what I've heard, this is par for the course where the royal twins are concerned," added O'Lauglin. He'd idly enjoyed the show this evening, watching the CBI chase their tails as well as their charges. So far, everything had been a series of humorous events and sexual interludes, and the g-man was storing up plenty of stories to share with his colleagues on Monday. So far, he'd refrained from putting in his two cents, allowing the CBI to take all the heat. He was having a great time, and dancing with his girlfriend was icing on the cake.

"Tell me," Jane was saying, "where's Jeffries and the royals' cousin, Max?"

"There's Jeffries," said Cho, nodding toward a constipated looking man having an intense conversation with the twins' social director.

"Hmmm. Thanks." Jane began to walk toward the man, but Hightower's voice stopped him.

"What are you doing?"

"He was one of the princess's honorable mentions."

She looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yes." And he quickly outlined his discussion with Alana, leaving out her unwelcome advances, of course.

"Well, I'm going with you," she told him. "Lisbon's not here to keep you out of trouble."

"No," he said, with a tinge of disappointment. "She isn't."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

What Lisbon was doing was informing the prince that his sister was fine. The doctor and Jeffries had just left. The verdict on his health? Some sort of virus, treatable with rest and fluids. It seemed even royal blood couldn't resist the common cold.

"She was having a meeting, so I didn't want to interrupt. But I'm sure she'll be in to check on you soon."

"A meeting? With whom?"

She hesitated. "A member of my team, Mr. Jane. He's here to help find out who is sending those threats." She tried to ignore the stab of pain her sudden flash of memories elicited.

"Yes, I remember him. Good-looking blonde chap." He coughed, and she handed him his glass of water by the bed. "My sister says you're sleeping with him. She's very good at recognizing these things."

"Yeah, well, that didn't stop her from—I mean, she's way off base. There's nothing between Jane and me. Nothing but anger…and annoyance."

"Awww…true love is it?" said the prince with a gentle smirk.

She didn't see the point in lying anymore. "Yes," she said, blushing, hardly believing that the first person she'd confessed her feelings to other than Jane was the Royal Prince of Tremania.

"Please," she continued, "We have to keep our relationship secret. I know I don't know you very well, but there's something about you…I trust you, oddly enough. Though the tabloids would tell me otherwise." Lisbon had learned long ago to listen to her instincts.

He smiled, coughed, then smiled again. "Thank you, Agent Lisbon. I can keep your secret. But why? Why can't you show the world how you feel? In Tremania, no one conceals their true feelings. If they feel it, they express it. I cannot imagine holding so much in. It must be very bad for your heart."

To her surprise, Lisbon felt her eyes water. "It is. But we can't be open about this. It's against regulations at work. And now he's just made it more difficult for us…May I?" She reached for a tissue from the box beside his bed, and wiped her eyes and nose.

"You interrupted your man and my sister in a compromising position, yes? Don't worry, I know how she is."

"Yes…they were…kissing. Or at least, _she_ was kissing him. I know he loves me. I just can't believe he would let himself be manipulated like that."

"He is a man, Teresa—may I call you Teresa? Men see breasts and a smile and we are done for." His eyes roamed to the _v_ formed by her halter, and he grinned.

"That's really no excuse. He should be taught a lesson, as far as I'm concerned. He can't go around kissing any beautiful woman that comes on to him."

"You are so right," agreed the prince. "If he has committed to you, his behavior was that of a lying, cheating hound. He needs to be put to heel right away before he pulls too hard on his leash."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow.

"I hunt," explained Alex, laughing at her expression. "I think however, given my special knowledge of hounds, as well as the weaknesses of men, that I might be able to help you." They briefly discussed their plan for Operation Jealous Jane. "Perhaps tomorrow, when I am better rested…"

"Oh! Of course, Your Highness. Forgive me for taking up time when you should be resting."

He waved a dismissing hand. "It has been my pleasure. We'll teach him not to trifle with the beautiful Agent Lisbon."

Lisbon couldn't believe this entire conversation. It was truly amazing how genuine the prince was. So charming, even while blowing his nose and coughing up phlegm.

She touched his shoulder. "Thank you for the talk, and for whatever help you can offer. I hope you are feeling better soon. Is there anything I can do before I leave?"

"Thank you, no. You have done so much already. My valet will be here to help, so please do not trouble yourself. Enjoy this beautiful mansion. Go back to the party and dance with your lover. It will make things that much sweeter when you exact your revenge tomorrow."

She laughed. "You really are as terrible as I was warned about."

"Imagine how much worse I will be when I'm at my best," he teased. "Good night Teresa."

"Good night, Your Highness."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The team watched the last of the guests depart from the disaster of a reception. While the mansion employees began their cleanup, Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt, and O'laughlin began their patrols of the perimeter. Jane and Hightower never did find Cousin Max, who had mysteriously disappeared right after the princess had left the party. As for Jeffries, Hightower would also describe Jane's interview with him as a disaster as well.

"I have never been so insulted!" Jeffries had proclaimed, once Jane had taken his question the usual step too far. "I must ask that you leave this mansion at once!"

Hightower stood firm. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jeffries, but that isn't your call. You are still on American soil, and it is our responsibility to provide security while you are here. Mr. Jane is only trying to get to the truth."

"Truth? Do you want the truth? This man is a menace!"

"Well—" Jane began.

"Shut up, Jane," said Hightower, knowing the next words past his lips might pull the plug on this whole operation.

"Shutting up, Boss." He did the "lock and key" gesture to his lips, grinning at his latest handiwork. He'd riled the old bastard up alright. As he watched Hightower expertly placate the man, he continued to read his body language. Jeffries finally wandered away from them, much calmer, though no doubt only on the outside.

"He's definitely hiding something," Jane told Hightower. "Guys with beady little eyes are always hiding something."

"Really?" Hightower said skeptically. "People can't help the size of their eyes, Jane. Don't tell me small eyes predispose someone for sneakiness."

Jane grinned. "It always does in the movies. I'll keep my own average-sized eye on him." He winked at her, then yawned suddenly, although it was only ten o'clock. "Excuse me. I think I'll turn in, if there's nothing else for me to do."

"Turn in? You're staying the night here? In what room?" Hightower hadn't made arrangements for the consultant, figuring his all-night presence wasn't required for this gig.

Jane shrugged. "Someone is bound to take me in. Very few are immune to my charms."

Hightower shook her head and smiled ruefully, not disputing him. "Well, good luck with that. And if you see Lisbon, tell her I need to see her."

"Will do." Actually, Jane was wondering where she was as well. They had some unfinished business to attend to.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He met Lisbon halfway down the hall. He saw her stiffen when she saw him, and her smile was a little tight.

"Hey," he said, keeping his hands to himself, since the guards at the royal suites were watching them curiously. "We were about to form a search party for you."

"Hightower knew where I was."

Her eyes were blank and expressionless. She was hardest to read when she went all shark-eyed on him, but it was obvious she was not the same Lisbon who'd screamed beneath him not long ago. She continued walking toward the lobby, and Jane was forced to walk beside her or be left behind.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Nothing." _Of course, that's what women always say when they mean you've pissed them off and your relationship is on the verge of collapse._ He sighed in frustration, his hand running through his hair. He thought about telling her that their tryst earlier had had an unexpected audience, but she didn't seem in quite the right frame of mind to find it as amusing as he did. He changed tacts.

"Okay…how's the prince?"

"Still sick."

They were approaching the lobby where Cho stood conversing with Hightower. They were arranging the watch schedule for the night. Apparently, Van Pelt, O'laughlin, and Cho would take the first shift, then Rigsby, Lisbon, and Hightower would relieve them around two a.m., giving everyone a chance for some much-needed rest. Jane didn't even offer to be on duty. He still wanted to catch some shut-eye, and he'd come up with the perfect plan to do it. But he wouldn't be sleeping alone, not if he had anything to do with it.

He approached the FBI agent, leaving Lisbon to help work out the boring details with her team. "Evening, Craig. Enjoy the party?"

The man always seemed wary around Jane, but for the life of him, Jane couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because Jane clearly wished the relationship between Rigsby and Van Pelt had worked. However, maybe Jane's suggestion could help smooth things over.

"Yes, actually," O'laughlin replied. "I never knew working with the CBI could be so…entertaining." They both grinned, each having their own ideas of what they'd found entertaining so far. Jane put a friendly arm around the agent's shoulders, feeling him tense at the uninvited contact.

"Craig, my boy, have I got a proposition for you…"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon went to her room mentally and physically exhausted, still mad at Jane, but knowing he would likely try to pick up where they'd left off earlier. The team had ordered delivery Chinese food, and Lisbon sat in her room on the king-sized bed, eating her chicken Chow Mein with the take-out chopsticks. She'd managed to give Jane the slip—a mean trick where he was concerned—and decided simply to not answer the door. She hoped what she knew of children would apply to Jane—ignoring bad behavior would make it stop. Since Jane was the very definition of _bad behavior, _it would take a lot of willpower to ignore this man, but for her own sanity, and for the sake of their relationship, she thought it best not to see him tonight.

When the knock came, she went to the peephole to see who was there. Jane, of course.

"Lisbon? You in there? I brought my Moo Shu pork. Thought we could share. Come on, I know you're holding the chow-mein hostage in there."

"Go away, Jane. I'm tired. I need the rest before I go back on duty in a few hours."

"Please?" he pleaded, looking up at the peephole with puppy dog eyes. She leaned her head against the door. His smile was her biggest weakness, but those sad eyes came in a close second.

_No, Teresa. Be strong. You can do this._

"No, Jane. See you later."

She went back to the bed and turned up the TV. An old rerun of _Frasier _was on—her favorite episode, the one with the ski lodge—and a good laugh would be just the ticket to take her mind off things and relax her. He could knock all he wanted, but—

At the sound of a sliding key card, her eyes flew to the door. She hadn't bolted the door in case Hightower had needed to come in. _Dammit! _Jane entered her room with a smile, holding up his take-out box in triumph.

"How the hell did you get a pass key?" she asked, mouth full of rice.

"Rigsby loaned it to me," he grinned. He made himself at home on the bed, and nodded to the TV. "Oh, I love this one!" He opened his box and fished his own chopsticks from inside his jacket pocket.

She swallowed her mouthful and looked at him suspiciously. "You lifted it off him, didn't you?"

Jane shrugged and reached over to her carton to steal a piece of chicken. "I can't be responsible for Rigsby's irresponsibility."

"Well, eat, then get the hell out."

He lowered his hand and looked at her seriously. "What's going on, Teresa?"

"I really don't feel like getting into this tonight."

He noted how her green eyes turned a little watery, and she was focusing entirely too much on the TV without laughing at the high jinks of the Crane brothers. He set down the box and chopsticks on the bedside table, and took hers out of her hands too.

"Talk to me."

She gulped, her hurt words tumbling out against her will. "Why don't you talk to Princess Alana? I bet she has a lot to say."

"Lisbon? What did you think you saw?" A feeling of intense trepidation washed over him.

"I didn't _think_ I saw anything. I _did_ see you—kissing that royal skank not an hour ago."

He dropped his chin to his chest. It was worse than he'd imagined. He reached for her hands, but she stubbornly pulled them away. He caught them anyway, stronger than her, at least in his hands.

"What you saw was the princess kissing me. I thought I heard a noise from the adjoining door. That was you, wasn't it? Oh, Lisbon…sweetheart. I let her kiss me and get it out of her system. I didn't kiss her back—didn't want to. You're the only one I want to kiss."

"Don't lie to me, Jane. You know how much I hate it when you lie."

"I'm not. I wouldn't lie about something like this, not when a little misunderstanding like this could ruin everything for us. I waited too long for you to throw it away on some trollop princess. Please, try to believe me. I neither invited nor welcomed her advances. I was being a gentleman and letting her figure out I didn't want her. She did-fairly quickly—then threw her shoes at me, and I left. End of story."

She looked into his fathomless eyes, wanting to believe him, wanting to trust that their love was more important to him than being kissed by a beautiful princess.

"She threw her shoes at you?" Lisbon asked finally, her dimple showing at the thought. Jane smiled in relief.

"Yes. It was a real shame. I'm pretty sure they were Italian." He leaned down and touched her lips gently with his. "You believe me now?"

She sighed. "Yes. But I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut when I saw another woman's hands on you. You should have just pushed her away. It was all I could do not to knock both of you flat."

"I tried, really, but she was holding me so tightly, I knew I would hurt her if I tried to pry her off. I figured the penalty for bruising a monarch would mean a beheading under Tremanian law."

She laughed, relieved too that it had just been a misunderstanding. He began kissing her, and they soon forgot about the Chinese food. After a few minutes, when things began to get out of hand, Lisbon pulled away slightly.

"Hightower," she murmured against his lips.

"No, it's Jane," he said wryly, continuing to rain kisses over her face and neck. "Should I be worried that you're calling the boss's name?"

She laughed breathlessly. "She could interrupt us again at any minute, and she has one of those pass keys too, remember?" He pulled back reluctantly, then tried to staunch his other appetite by picking up Lisbon's Chow Mein.

"Well, I've made certain arrangements for us so we can have a room to ourselves, if you like."

She looked at him suspiciously, then took her box out of his hands. "What did you do, Jane?"

He smiled mysteriously. "Come with me, and I'll show you."

She glanced toward the door, then met Jane's eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to push our luck. I mean, what if someone hears us?"

Jane nearly choked on his mouthful of Moo Shu. She pointed to the mini-fridge, and he grabbed a bottled water to wash down his food. Then he tossed her one, as well. He debated whether or not to tell her that her fears were kind of moot now, but figured this wasn't the right time either, and certainly wouldn't compel her to sneak in a little midnight nookie.

"Well, think about it, would ya?" There were those puppy dog eyes again, along with the megawatt smile—a killer combination.

"You don't play fair," she said, smiling ruefully.  
"What?" He had the temerity to act like he didn't know the effect he had on her.

"I'll think about it." She dug into her food with new relish.

"That's all I ask, Lisbon." And he munched on a mushroom.

A/N: If you were looking for some revenge and jealousy, don't be too disappointed; that's still to come. Next up: musical rooms anyone? Please log in and review. I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	6. Royal Mess

A/N: Thanks for pushing the review count over 100! I'd be lying if I said I'm not addicted to them, lol. Indeed, that's one of the main reasons I continue to post (that, and I LOVE to write!). Anyway, this is extra long, for your reading pleasure. Also, this is my third chapter within a week, so if you are behind, you might want to catch up before reading this. Oh, and one more thing—there's a bit of "M" rated stuff too, later in the chapter, so be warned. Enjoy!

**Chapter 6: Royal Mess**

Craig O'laughlin was just leaving his room when he saw Rigsby standing outside the neighboring door. A take-out container of Chinese food was sitting on the floor beside him, as he frantically searched every pocket.

"Hey, Rigsby. Lose something?" Of course, there was always tension between Van Pelt's former and current lovers.

Rigsby tried his best to quell the expression of annoyance at seeing the FBI agent. _Yes, I lost something. The only woman I'll ever love, you bastard. Thanks for reminding me. _Instead, he said aloud: "Yeah. I can't find my key card. I probably left it inside my room. Cho's out patrolling. I guess I'll have to call him if I'm gonna get in to get some sleep. God, he'll never let me hear the end of it."

"I didn't get a pass key, or I'd let you in. But you could use my room," O'lauglin offered. "I'm sure Jane won't mind a roommate. He needed a place to crash and I let him have my room."

"But where will you be-?" Rigsby began. Then, realization hit him. He'd want to be with Grace, naturally. _He _still wanted to be with Grace. _If I hadn't been such an idiot, I'd be sneaking over to sleep with Grace. Lucky bastard. _"Oh, of course. Uh, well, thanks. I'd appreciate that." He picked up his box of Lo Mein and carried it next door.

O'lauglin shifted his small duffel bag to his other hand and re-opened his guest room door for him. He'd changed from his tux to his usual g-man suit and tie.

"Thanks again, man," said Rigsby, almost grudgingly.

"No problem." Rigsby wanted to punch that confident smile off the other agent's face, even though, if he admitted it to himself, O'laughlin didn't really seem to be gloating. He was actually a pretty good guy, once you got past his model-perfect, pretty-boy looks. Rigsby couldn't help but feel that she'd traded him in for a slicker model, and every time he saw them together, he felt like he was watching Barbie and Ken.

"Oh, is there any of that Chinese food left?" O'laughlin asked before Rigsby could close the door. "I'm starved, and those tiny finger sandwich things at the reception didn't cut it."

Rigsby definitely empathized where hunger was concerned. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I think you could at least find an extra egg roll or something. There's always too much Chinese food."

"Great, thanks. See ya around."

"Yeah, see ya."

Rigsby looked around the quiet guest room, his appetite suddenly, uncharacteristically gone. It had been a long day, and his little meeting with O'laughlin had been the capper. With a sad sigh, he put his Lo Mein in the mini fridge for later. The sight of the bed was calling him louder than food, for once, especially at the thought that he would be on duty again in less than four hours. He kicked off his shoes, removed his jacket, tie, and trousers, pulled back the covers, and climbed into bed in only his boxer shorts. In a matter of minutes, he was asleep, his last thought, as always, had been of a certain redhead who still completely owned him, heart and soul.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Van Pelt was in her room, freshening up and changing out of her formal gown and into her more comfortable slacks and button up blouse. It really sucked that they had to work this weekend, but at least Craig had surprised her by volunteering for this detail to be with her. He was so sweet. She was glad they'd drawn first watch tonight, and that Rigsby would be second. It was so uncomfortable having the two of them in such close proximity, even though things had been over between her and Wayne for some time.

Grace had been lucky to find such a great man as Craig, but she couldn't lie and say she didn't still have feelings for her co-worker. In all honesty, she would always love him, but Craig had managed to capture part of her heart that Rigsby hadn't touched, and she was happy for the first time in months. It still hurt a little to see the tall agent every day, to remember how it had felt to hold him, to kiss him. They'd both handled the whole affair very stupidly, and ultimately had chosen their jobs over their relationship. That's just the way it had to be now. At least, with Craig, she could keep her job with the Serious Crimes Unit, and maintain an awkward kind of friendship with Wayne.

With one last look at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Van Pelt buckled on her sidearm, grabbed her badge and pass key, and went out to do her duty. She smiled to herself at the surprise she'd planned for Craig later. He was always so staid and professional, never wanting to display affection while on the job, but she was about to tempt him into loosening up a little. Here, in this beautiful mansion, she didn't think he'd mind so much, once she got through with him anyway. Two o'clock couldn't get here fast enough.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_One hour later…_

Hightower was surprised to see Jane and Lisbon both sitting on the bed, eating Chinese food and watching an old sitcom. It looked oddly domestic, but she'd never understand the strange kind of platonic relationship the pair had. They actually seemed more like bickering siblings at times, but she certainly was in no mood to figure it out tonight. All she wanted to do was get some sleep before duty called again in three hours. Hightower hated to be rude, but Jane simply had to get out if that were ever going to happen.

"Sorry to break up your little slumber party," she said, tossing her key card on the dresser, "but I really need a nap. You mind, Jane?"

"Oh. No. Of course not. I'll just be going then."

"Thanks. See you later." Hightower didn't even wait to hear his reply, but went directly into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Damn," he muttered, looking at the beautiful woman he was more than sorry to leave. He reached for her hand, talking in hushed tones. "Once she goes to sleep, find me, and I'll take you to our love nest." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"I don't know…"she whispered.

He kissed her quickly but passionately on the mouth, letting his tongue tangle with hers for all too brief a moment. It was a taste of what she'd be missing if she turned him down. Then he played his trump card.

"Hey, you owe me, woman."

"For what?"

He held up a bare foot. "You owe me for the wet socks I got from the bath tub, and for leaving me, uh, _hanging_ earlier."

She grinned. "Sorry about that. Wet socks are really uncomfortable."

"Yes," he said, playing along, his eyes sparkling. "They certainly are." He put on his shoes with a wink.

The toilet flushed—Jane's cue to leave.

"Find me," he mouthed. He gave her another quick kiss and left just as Hightower opened the bathroom door.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_One hour later…_

Jane was fidgety, tapping a pencil at the makeshift command center in the lobby of the mansion—a table and four chairs. Lisbon hadn't come to get him yet. He couldn't believe she was chickening out. Then again, this was Lisbon he was thinking about.

Cho had a laptop in front of him, which connected to the outside surveillance cameras. He could watch the grounds outside, but no cameras were allowed inside the mansion for the privacy of the guests, according to Mr. Pine. Hence, the regular patrols through the halls, the pavilion, the dining room, kitchen, and even outside, just to make sure no one was lurking unseen in the abundant foliage surrounding the place. It annoyed Cho to no end how badly secured this mansion was, given the many important guests that stayed there. But even more annoying was Jane's constant tapping of his damn pencil.

"I saw someone killed with a pencil once," Cho said dryly, eyes scanning each quadrant of the monitor. "Right in the jugular." When the tapping continued, he added: "Or maybe it was in the eyeball."

"Huh? Oh. Sorry." Jane tossed the pencil on the table and promptly began swiveling the chair from side to side. After about two minutes of that, Cho looked pointedly at Jane, who then stood up in agitation.

"What's wrong with you?" Cho asked, with as much emotion as he ever exhibited. This was like being with Rigsby right before he'd gotten the balls enough to finally go for it with Van Pelt. A movement in one of the camera views caught his eye. It was O'laughlin, walking past the fountain in the courtyard. He stopped and talked to Jeffries.

"I just wondered why Lisbon isn't out here supervising. You know what a control freak she is."

Cho nodded once in agreement. Then Jane began pacing. "She's probably sleeping," said Cho helpfully. _Like I wish I could be. _He glanced at Jane. _Or him. _But alas, there was no couch in sight to lure the man away.

"I'm going to take a turn through the house," Jane said finally, seeming to make a decision.

"Okay." Cho didn't even look up as the consultant left the lobby, but he did allow himself a soft sigh of relief.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane tiptoed past the royal suites, guarded by their soundly sleeping sentries. They'd found chairs and had promptly dozed off. Jane didn't blame them. What a waste of their abilities—beat cops doing guard duty for spoiled monarchs. He was sure they'd rather be out chasing after muggers.

As he approached Lisbon and Hightower's room, he noted a light still shining beneath the door, and when he pressed his ear to it, heard the unmistakable sound of two women having a heart-to-heart talk. _Dammit. She was being held hostage by her boss's sob story about her strained marriage. Well, I'll save her!_

He knocked softly. A minute later, Lisbon answered the door. Jane looked past her to where Hightower was sitting in an overstuffed chair looking curiously back at him. He waved casually, and quickly formulated an excuse to be there. His eyes took in Lisbon, now changed from her formal dress to gray slacks and a black, scoop-necked t-shirt. Her gold crucifix was in place again, along with the matching earrings he'd bought her. He smiled a little and then met her intense gaze. _"Sorry!" _she mouthed.

"What's up, Jane?" Lisbon asked aloud.

"Uh, Cho had a question. He couldn't get hold of you because you didn't have your ear piece in."

"There's a phone here," Lisbon reasoned. "He could've called."

"Help me out here, Teresa," he whispered, not changing his pleasant expression.

"Is there something wrong, Patrick?" called Hightower.

"No. I'm not sure what Cho wants, but it didn't seem serious."

"Well, you'd better go find out what's going on, Agent Lisbon."

"Yes, ma'am," she replied. "I'll just grab my shoes."

Jane waited in the hall, and Lisbon came out of the room momentarily, shoe-clad and annoyed. He grabbed her hand and, without saying a word, went down the hall to another room, swiping his pass key and pulling her inside.

He flicked on the foyer light, and Lisbon surveyed their surroundings.

"This is Cho and Rigsby's room. Why are we in here?"

He took her in his arms, his lips going instantly to her neck, breathing in the spicy scent of her perfume.

"Someone's been sleeping in _my _bed," he replied to her question, latching lightly on to her ear with his teeth. She shivered involuntarily.

"Huh?"

He knew he'd have to explain a few things, or there was no way she'd be able to focus on what he planned to do to her. And he definitely wanted all her attention. He pulled away slightly and sighed.

"I was supposed to have O'laughlin's room, but when I opened the door a few minutes ago, Rigsby was asleep in there."

"Rigsby?"

"I guess he couldn't get into his room without his pass key, so O'laughlin must have let him in." He had the grace to look sheepish.

"Karma is a bitch, isn't it," Lisbon smirked.

She looked around the room with its two full-sized beds. It was easy to tell which side of the room belonged to Cho. One side would pass a military inspection; the other was littered with empty potato chip bags and candy bar wrappers, the comforter already rumpled, and Rigsby's clothes from earlier thrown haphazardly on the bed.

"Rigsby's a pig," she commented in disgust.

"Well, good thing Cho was in the Army." Lisbon found herself being led to Cho's side of the room.

"We are _not_ sleeping in Cho's bed, Goldilocks," she said sarcastically.

"Why not? He's not using it, at least not for another couple hours."

"Because that's just—_ew_! No!"

"Okay," he said, then took up kissing her anew. "We won't sleep." His mouth silenced any additional protests, as did the warm hands that cupped her breasts.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Two hours later…_

Van Pelt felt like she knew every nook and cranny of the mansion, inside and out, by the time her shift was over. It was a little fun to meet Craig and steal a few kisses in a secluded alcove, or on the camera's blind side of the fountain. They were both tired by the day's events, and the monotonous patrols of the last four hours, but Grace was looking forward to fulfilling her dream of making love to Craig in a luxurious guest room. She would wait for him to turn in, then use her pass key to let herself in his room and take him completely by surprise. She smiled to herself, her eyes going dreamy with the thought of spending the rest of the night in Craig's strong arms.

As she made what she hoped was her final stop at Cho's command central, she saw that O'laughlin had beaten her there. They grinned at each other mischievously, each nursing a secret that had been difficult to keep from the other, especially during their clandestine clinches throughout the night.

"Well," O'laughlin yawned. "I'm ready to hit the sack. Long night, eh, Cho?"

"Yeah," he replied, eyes still on the monitor. "I'll just wait until our relief gets here. You guys go on to your, uh, rooms."

"Thanks, Cho," said Van Pelt, entirely too cheerful for two a.m. "Good-night!"

"Night." When the pair had left, Cho rolled his eyes. It didn't take one of the CBI's top investigators to know what the couple's plans were for the rest of the night. He stood up and stretched, rolling his neck and looking forward to a few hours of sleep before they were back on babysitting duty in the morning. Rigsby better get his ass out here quick, or he'd make him take every shit detail for the next month.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Van Pelt and O'laughlin had made it halfway down the hall when he heard and felt a familiar vibration. He stopped and pulled out his phone, seeing it was the Bureau chief calling.

"Dammit. I'd better get this, Grace. Go on to bed; you look tired."

"Okay. Good-night."

She kissed his cheek just as he brought the phone to his ear. She didn't mind the interruption, because his delay would give her time to take a quick shower and change into her nightgown and robe. Not her sexiest lingerie, given that she'd had no idea he'd be there tonight, but she knew it wouldn't stay on for long anyway.

At first, Craig was grateful for the delay, because he needed an excuse to cover his running back to the kitchen. One of the wait staff had helpfully refrigerated the bottle of champagne he'd brought with him, in hopes that he'd find the time to have a bit of romance in the middle of work. This had been the weekend he'd planned to propose, but he'd abruptly changed his plans when Grace had to work, and he'd called in a few favors when he'd found out they needed an FBI agent on the scene. The proposal would have to wait, but Grace would be still be surprised that he was being so spontaneous tonight, a behavior very unlike him and one that he planned to explore more fully in the future. Jane needing a room was a further catalyst that would force him to seek shelter in Grace's room, thus removing any residual excuses for not following through on his plan.

The phone call from the Bureau changed things abruptly once again. A case he'd been working had suddenly broken, and he was needed back at HQ. He realized that their relationship and marriage would always be this way—full of interruptions and last-minute plan changes. But Grace would understand his sudden absence better than anyone; just one of the reasons he knew he'd found his perfect match.

Craig disconnected and went to knock on Grace's door with the bad news. When she didn't answer, he figured she must be in the bathroom. The case had become urgent now, so he had no time to wait. He'd tell Cho on his way out to pass on his message.

_Oh well,_ he thought, _there's always next weekend…_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Refreshed and changed into her nightie, Van Pelt peaked out her door and saw the hallway was empty, save for the sleeping guards in front of the royal suites. No one had the heart to wake them, since the CBI was on top of things and felt the uniforms were superfluous anyway. So, she took the pass key from her robe pocket and wandered next door to Craig's room. She was surprised at the darkness inside, and from the light in the hallway, she saw his masculine form beneath the covers, heard the soft snoring that brought her up short.

_That was fast,_ she thought. _Maybe he's too tired for this._

But Van Pelt wasn't going to make the same mistakes she'd made with Rigsby, and let anything get in the way of her romance with Craig—not even sleep. She quietly shut the door behind her, then waited for her eyes to adjust before removing her nightclothes. This might even be better, to slip into the warm bed with him, to wake him up with her kisses.

He was on the far side of the bed, so when she lifted the sheets, he barely even moved. She slid closer to his warm, bare back, starting her kisses at the line of his short hair, then moving down his spine. She smiled as the man beside her shivered in his sleep. But something seemed a little off here, though somehow, strangely familiar. Either Craig's spine had suddenly stretched about six inches, or—

She sat up suddenly, her movement shaking the bed as she fumbled but failed to find the switch that turned on the bedside light. In an instant, she was pinned to the bed by a very agitated CBI agent. Grace could feel the familiar body above her, the long, smoothly muscled thighs, the flat stomach, the strong hands at her wrists, the hard—

"Grace?"

Apparently, he still remembered what she felt like too. He relaxed against her, breathing heavily in relief. Neither of them moved, still in shock, yet secretly unwilling to part with this unexpected fulfillment of an unspoken wish.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "I thought you were…"

"Yeah," he said, feeling himself growing harder as his brain caught up with his body, and he realized the woman he still loved was naked beneath him. His face was still in the crook of her neck, and he shuddered against her, unable to resist the call of her warm sweetness. His mouth opened, and he pressed his lips to her pounding pulse. She let out a gasp, but didn't protest as his mouth moved to the soft line of her jaw, then hovered above her lips, feeling her fresh breath as it came out in quick pants.

"Grace," he said again, before he gave in to temptation and accepted the gift fate had sent him.

And then she was kissing him back, with all the suppressed passion of months of denial, other lovers forgotten, friendship be damned; it was all just a ruse anyway. He released her wrists, and her hands went immediately to his silky hair, not realizing until then how much she'd missed it, how she'd missed it every time she'd touched Craig's severe buzz cut.

Rigsby's hands roamed her body like a man who'd been lost, his fingers suddenly remembering the way home as he caressed every inch of her. She moaned against his mouth as he touched her intimately, at the same time his lips and tongue followed an achingly familiar trail to encircle first one hard nipple, then the other, her back bowing up to meet him. Somehow, his boxers disappeared, and he realized she was more than ready—they both were—as his hands held her hips up to accept his body's easy joining with hers. They both stilled, their hearts pounding against one another, their eyes struggling through the darkness to take each other in. He brought his hands up to her glorious hair, then traced her darkened face, finding tear tracks that immediately called forth his own. He kissed her damp cheeks gently, willing himself to savor this lest he be cast into the wilderness again.

She gave a little cry in the back of her throat, and he caught it before it came out her softly parted lips. Slowly, he began to move. She met him stroke for stroke, and as their passion built, they both realized that, after being lost for months, they had finally made it home.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cho had picked up Jane's discarded pencil, tapping it absently against the table. Everyone was fifteen minutes late for the changing of the watch, and he was starting to get pissed off, particularly with Rigsby. No one had their ear pieces on except him and Jeffries. Some good they were doing.

He could see on the monitor that Jeffries apparently preferred to stay outside, for he was making his hundredth tour of the grounds, strolling with a cigarette in his mouth. Cho tapped his own ear piece and called for the Tremanian.

"Jeffries, it's Cho. I need to leave my post a minute. Could you come in and cover it?"

"Where are the rest of your people?" The man asked in irritation. "Isn't it past time for the duty shift?"

"Yeah. I think there's a malfunction with the ear pieces and they lost track of time. I'll go round them up."

He gave a long-suffering, very Tremanian sigh. "Very well."

Relieved of duty for the moment, Cho left the lobby, trying to ignore the anti-American, anti-CBI disparagement still ringing in his ears. _Self-righteous asshole. _He walked past the sleeping guards, kicking their chairs as he went by. They awakened with a start. _Slackers. _

He slid his key card and opened the door, surprised that the light was on in the foyer. He walked further in, his eyes first going to Rigbsy's wreck of a bed, then, hearing soft breathing, he looked over at his own. In the dim light he could see two figures curled up on his bed. As he moved closer to identify them, he saw more of Agent Lisbon than he had ever expected to see. He looked away quickly, feeling like he'd just seen his sister naked. But he had observed enough to know that it was Jane wrapped around her, and not the prince, as Van Pelt had maintained earlier. He was relieved.

Cho turned from the romantic scene to make his way quietly out of the room, closing the door with a soft click. Well, as pleased as it made him to see Jane and Lisbon so happy, that didn't solve his manpower situation. He wondered where Rigsby could be, and suddenly got a knowing feeling in his gut. O'laughlin had left two hours before, which left Van Pelt decidedly unattached for the evening.

_No freakin' way. He wouldn't._

But when he looked down the hall toward Van Pelt's room, he had the sinking feeling he knew what he'd likely find there. Not wanting to see any unnecessary parts of Van Pelt, he didn't even bother, just turned and made his way back to the room formerly shared by Lisbon and Hightower. He stood outside his boss's door, thinking of the ramifications of knocking. First, he would likely be waking her up, given the lateness of her arrival, and pointing out her mistake wouldn't be an endearing quality in one of her senior agents. Second, she would start asking questions about where Lisbon and Rigsby were—two cans of worms he had no desire to open. And third—well, he and Jeffries and the remaining uniforms could certainly handle the watch. And fourth, it wouldn't be too bad for everyone to owe him one. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't pulled an all-nighter before for this job. Making his decision, Cho tapped his ear piece.

"Looks like we're it for the rest of the night," he told the Tremanian. He clicked it off when the man started another tirade. He stopped in front of the royal suites, where the guards now stood at attention.

"You two take five. I'll cover for you." Cho had no desire to be in the presence of the foreign security guy in the middle of his rant. If he wanted to hear anti-American dogma, he'd watch cable news. As soon as the guards were out of sight, he looked up from his chair to see the princess's door opening. She was standing there, the filmy material of her nightgown practically transparent in the bright light of the hallway. She had nothing on underneath. Cho's mouth went dry.

"Agent Cho," she said in surprise, tossing her long, dark hair over one shoulder. Her full breasts swayed with the motion. "Just the man I was looking for. Could you come in here please and help me with a little problem I'm having?"

Cho got to his feet, always ready to rescue a damsel in distress. "Sure," he said, following the sway of her royal hips inside the suite as the door closed behind them.

A/N: Surprised? LOL. I had to actually draw a diagram for this one, though I sure hope you as readers didn't have to. And yes, everyone is being very irresponsible, but remember, I asked you to suspend your disbelief! I hope you found it entertaining enough to review. There's still day two and dealing with all the fallout of the night's revels, so more to come. (Revenge is still on the menu, I promise!) Thanks so much for reading!

P.S.: A special note for jasadin: thanks so much for logging in to post your kind review. However, you have your personal messages disabled, which you can enable on your accounts settings tab. So, if any of you who have posted but haven't gotten a reply, either you are not logged in, or your pm's have been disabled. I do try to reply to everyone, because I so appreciate your reviews!


	7. Royal Blood

A/N: So sorry it has been over a week since my last chapter. First, I was out of town, then I've had an awful case of writer's block, so I hope this turned out all right. I'd be curious, you other writers out there, how you handle this problem. If I wrote professionally, the stress of meeting deadlines would be terrifying, lol. This chapter does have a little more exposition than I would have liked, but I promise to go back to more dialogue in the next chapter. Thanks for your patience, and I hope it is worth your wait.

**Chapter 7: Royal Blood**

Patrick Jane awakened to an empty bed. The bedside clock flashed six-seventeen. He smiled and stretched on the bed luxuriously, thinking about the fine time he'd had with Lisbon earlier, how he'd definitely enjoyed collecting on the debt she'd owed him. To top that off, he'd slept so well (for a change) that he hadn't even stirred when Lisbon had left sometime in the early morning hours. He could picture how frantic and flustered she must have been to have discovered she'd slept past her appointed duty schedule. The thought made him grin even more as he got out of bed and walked naked into the bathroom.

A quick shower later, and Jane put on his clothes, wishing he'd brought in his bag from the car last night. He shrugged in resignation as he put on his tuxedo shirt and trousers from the night before, sans tie and vest. He hung his extraneous garments in Cho's closet, made a face as he put on his shoes without socks, and stepped into the hall to face the day…and Lisbon's wrath. It would be so like her to accuse him of seducing her. _Women. They can even find fault in having multiple orgasms._

The door to the princess's suite suddenly opened to his left, and out stepped Kimball Cho, straightening his tie and nodding to the two relief uniforms standing guard. Cho glanced over, meeting Jane's eyes, each man coloring slightly. Jane's eyebrows rose humorously, but Cho's face remained impassive, except for the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Morning, Cho," said Jane brightly.

"Morning," came the dry reply.

Another door closed down the hall, and Wayne Rigsby came out of what should have been Jane's room. His two colleagues waited for him to join them.

"Morning," Rigsby said. As Jane evaluated the tall agent, he deduced two things. One, Rigsby was definitely feeling guilty about something. And two, he was also extremely happy. Only one thing could bring forth that particular mix of emotions in a man: Rigsby had had sex with someone he shouldn't have. Since Lisbon had been in _his_ bed, and Cho had obviously been in the princess's, that left either Hightower (extremely unlikely) or…_aww…Van Pelt._ Jane grinned.

"Morning Wayne. You look like a very satisfied man this morning," Jane teased, pleased at the embarrassed blush his words evoked.

"Uhh…thanks?"

The men began walking back toward the lobby. "Rough night?" Cho asked caustically, thinking of Rigsby's extreme tardiness.

"Not at all," said Rigsby, grinning despite himself.

Cho gave his partner a sideways glance, but said nothing.

So the three men rejoined the rest of their team in the lobby. The women were munching on bagels and sipping coffee as the men approached. There was an uncomfortable moment as everyone waited for the other shoe to drop. Jane was enjoying the tension in the air enormously. It seemed that everyone had been very naughty, and no one was brave enough to call anyone out lest their own guilt be revealed.

Lisbon met his eyes, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, and Jane looked at her warmly, his smile going soft as he barely concealed his emotions. Rigsby and Van Pelt made no eye contact at all, which set off Jane's radar immediately. _Something was definitely going on there…_

Hightower cleared her throat, surveying the team plus Jeffries as they gathered round the makeshift command table. As Jane's attention alighted on their leader, he noted that she too had an air of guilt about her, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the cause. Madeleine was tough to read sometimes.

"Gentlemen, nice of you to join us," she began, nodding toward Jane, Cho and Rigsby. "The prince and princess have one last activity in Sacramento before they leave California today. A delegation of state congressmen will gather to greet them in front of the Capitol building, so we'll be working with the CHP on this one. In the meantime, we'll continue security detail here until it's time to escort them to the Capitol."

Jeffries, who had been up all night, seemed not to have been affected at all by the lack of sleep—except, perhaps, that the royal security liaison looked ready to send a few CBI agents to the guillotine. He stepped forward to give a speech of his own, and his audience braced themselves for the explosion.

"I would just like to say that I have never been involved with such incompetent, unprofessional security people in all my life. Do you know who guarded His and Her Royal Highnesses? Your uniformed police officers and myself, that is who. You are fortunate that there were no attempts on their lives, or there would be hell to pay. As it is, I will be reporting your incompetence to your superiors."

"How _is_ the prince this morning?" Jane asked mildly, liberally spreading half a bagel with cream cheese. He only succeeded in infuriating Jeffries even more by ignoring his outburst.

"He is recovering well, despite the lack of care by you and the rest of your team."

Jane shrugged. "All's well that ends well…no harm, no foul…etcetera, etcetera…" He took a bite of his bagel.

"Mr. Jane, is it?" began Jeffries, walking over to stand right in front of him. "I do not entirely understand your importance to this team—"

"No one ever does," Jane said mournfully, mouth full.

Hightower's hackles rose. "Mr. Jane is vital to solving crimes in our unit. He's here to try to find out who exactly is threatening your monarchs, remember?"

"And have you?" Jeffries inquired tightly of Jane, still stinging from the insulting interview the night before.

"I've narrowed it down to two," said Jane, swallowing. He pointed his bagel at Jeffries. "You're one of them, as a matter of fact."

"So you said last night. Again, I won't dignify that with a reply."

"You won't dignify—why, you insufferable—" Jane began, in exaggerated offense, only to be waylaid by Lisbon.

"Jane, let's take a turn outside," she grabbed his arm and literally dragged him from the lobby. Outside, the sun was on the rise, its pink rays reflecting off the gurgling fountain. She didn't stop dragging until she'd reached the camera's blind spot.

"You need to stop doing that," said Lisbon, stopping at last, a little out of breath. Jane just grinned.

"Stop what, Lisbon?"

"You know—that thing you do with suspects. Insult them, rile them up."

"Nothing I can't stand more than haughty, self-important people, especially ones that might be criminals too."

"Yeah, but this is just the kind of thing I was worried about. Insulting this man could lead to even more embarrassment than we're about to be put through, all because of you."

"Me?" he said, taking another bite of the bagel he still held in his right hand. "What did I do?"

Frustrated, she grabbed the bagel from his hand and threw it into the bushes.

"Hey!" he protested, trying to speak around his food. "I wasn't finished with that."

"You know damn well what you did." Her voice lowered as she realized anyone might hear. "You got me into bed last night, made me sleep past my appointed time."

He swallowed and grinned again, eyes sparkling. "Oh, Lisbon, you weren't complaining when I did that thing again with my tongue—"

She blushed hotly. "That's not the point. I didn't do my job because you had me so distracted. And I have the feeling that you are also somehow responsible for everyone else's dereliction of duty."

He genuinely looked offended at that accusation. "Now, you can't possibly blame what other people do on me. You were with me all night, remember? Besides," he said, moving closer, "You wore me out. Where would I have found the strength after that to get myself into trouble?"

Lisbon made herself step away from the wicked temptation of his eyes, of his warmth, of his touch. She held up her hands defensively.

"Stay away from me now, I mean it. I'm already in enough hot water…"

"Hmmm…hot water. You know, we've never taken a bath together. I mean, showers are certainly fun, but a bath? The possibilities are endless."

She laughed. He was incorrigible. "Stop it. I'm going in now, and I want you to promise to be on your best behavior, both with me and with Jeffries. If he's the stalker, we'll ferret him out subtly, okay? You know subtle, Jane, I know you do."

He sighed. "But it's not nearly as much fun."

"Well, the time for fun is over, at least for now," she told him firmly, walking back toward the entrance. She looked back and he was still standing where she'd left him. "Stop staring at my ass and come on," she hissed.

He chuckled and followed her, but he was still admiring the rear view.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rigsby and Cho ate their breakfast while the others took up their guard duty or made the rounds. Hightower was on the phone with the Commissioner of the California Highway Patrol, making arrangements for the forthcoming meet and greet of the royals with the state congressmen.

"I'm sorry, man," Rigsby murmured, "about standing you up last night."

Cho took a sip of coffee. "I'm not your girlfriend," he said in his typical monotone. "But yeah, you owe me one."

It took all of Cho's natural fortitude and more not to smile. The fact was, he hadn't had to cover for Rigsby for long before he'd had his own special audience with the princess. The sex had been so great and unexpected that he was no longer the least bit mad at his partner. But it was good for Rigsby to feel the guilt anyway, because Cho had been prepared to stay up all night to cover his ass. It was the thought, after all.

"You got it. Just say the word, and you can call in a favor, you name it," Rigsby proclaimed.

"I'll let you know." The only indication that Cho was pleased was the brief sparkle in his dark eyes.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three hours later, and the Prince and Princess of Tremania appeared in the lobby, ready to board their limos and head down the road to the State Capitol building. Lisbon nodded to the prince, who seemed much improved in health.

"How are you feeling, Your Highness," she asked politely.

"Very well, thanks to your wonderful nursing skills last night." Jane, who stood nearby, raised an eyebrow at the man's suggestive tone. Lisbon smiled cordially, wishing she'd had the chance to talk to him alone and tell him she no longer needed revenge, but he'd kept to his room all morning, his valet and the telephone occupying his time. A prince's work was apparently never done, even half a world away from home.

"It was my pleasure. I'm glad you are better." Lisbon inclined her head stiffly to the princess, who nodded coldly in return. Alana positively ignored Jane, which, of course, had him smiling in amusement.

The princess had taken Cho's arm, and she seemed to be devouring him with her eyes. Rigsby and Van Pelt joined them, both uncharacteristically quiet. Lisbon was getting weird vibes from the two of them, but chose to ignore them. She certainly didn't want to go down that road with them again, which would be highly hypocritical at this juncture. Hightower signaled that the cars were ready and secure, and the CBI team, the CHP, the royal twins and their entourage caravanned to the California State Capitol.

The team all rode in the company SUV, each silent and lost in thought. _It must have been some night_, thought Lisbon. _Maybe we're all just tired. _But when she glanced in the rearview mirror at her colleagues, each face looked strained and as if they were suppressing some deep, oppressive secret. Except Jane. The man looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, as her mother used to say. He caught her staring and his blue-green eyes twinkled from the back seat. She shook her head in exasperation, and redirected her eyes firmly on the road ahead.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hundreds of people had gathered along the road to the Capitol, tossing Tremanian red roses on the limos and generally creating a security nightmare. They pulled up to the steps leading up to the building, the top of which had been arranged like a stage, where several congressmen and women awaited their arrival. A microphoned podium would accommodate the twins' address to the cheering crowd. Local and national camera crews would record the remarks of the visiting royals.

Working in tandem with the CHP, the team managed to safely escort the royals to the dais, all of them scanning the crowd for possible threats. Cho and Rigbsy hung back behind the pair; Hightower, Van Pelt, and Lisbon stood spread out at the bottom of the steps, facing the crowd, hands on their weapons. Jane, now dressed in his typical uniform of a three-piece suit, stood on the dais near Jeffries, just to annoy the man.

The Tremanians spoke of their continued desire for remaining allies with the US, for the dream of world peace, clean air, healthy babies, yada, yada, yada. Jane rolled his eyes at the platitudes and rigmarole, finding more of interest in the multitude below them. His eyes scanned the faces, passing over the passionately waving Tremanian flags, and the occasional roses that littered the cement steps. Just as the princess took the podium, Jane's eyes were drawn to a flash of metal in the audience. He focused on the glint, narrowing his eyes and taking an unconscious step forward. _Gun! _Shouted the voice inside his head, right before the word came out of his mouth.

"Gun!" he yelled aloud, pointing his finger in the direction of a dark-haired man in sunglasses and a blue windbreaker, who squeezed off a shot at the very moment Jeffries dove toward his princess. A CHP officer grabbed the prince roughly and pinned him to the ground, shielding him with his body. Jane ducked himself, amid the deafening screams of the crowd and the general pandemonium. The congressmen were hustled inside the Capitol building, and the other police worked to try to hold back the panicking crowd.

Lisbon had seen the assassin the moment Jane had, and was pushing her way through the melee toward him, Cho and Rigsby right behind.

"Stop! Police!" She called after him, but the man didn't slow down.

As soon as he reached a clear area, he took off at a dead run, but he couldn't outrun Lisbon, former high school track star. She tackled him in a grassy area beneath a blossoming tree, pinning his arms behind him and pulling out her cuffs.

"You're under arrest," she began, wrangling him to his feet. Cho arrived and began patting the guy down, careful not to get his fingerprints on the handgun he found in the man's jacket pocket. By this time, the CHP had surrounded them. Everyone looked back up at the steps, now empty of all but Jane and Jeffries, who were hurrying down to the suspect. The moment Jeffries saw the assassin he punched the guy hard in the face.

"You bastard!" Jeffries spit, fighting against the restraints of Rigsby's strong hands.

"Cousin Max, I presume," said Jane breathlessly. The royal uncle, heretofore unseen by Jane, spouted off a spate of Tremanian, which Jeffries responded to with an angry jangling of consonants.

"How are the royals?" Lisbon asked, turning Uncle Max over to the CHP, who read him his rights and escorted him roughly to a nearby patrol car. The sound of an approaching ambulance filled the air, punctuating the fear that Maximilian Tremania's shot had hit its mark.

"Fine," Jane replied. "Hightower is with them. Princess Alana hit her head on the podium when she ducked, but fortunately, the shot went wide. The prince appears to have some scraped hands and knees from being pushed to the cement. Other than that, they're both all right."

Rigsby freed Jeffries, who walked over to Jane, holding out a slightly trembling hand. "I must thank you, Mr. Jane, for yelling out a warning. If you hadn't, and Alana had not ducked…"

Jane took his hand. "Pure luck," he said simply, for it was the truth. "But it's Lisbon here who caught the guy. She deserves all the credit."

Lisbon found herself pulled into an unexpected embrace by the otherwise haughty Tremanian. Jane and the others smiled at her obvious discomfort.

"Just doing my job," she said humbly, earning herself a kiss on each cheek. She tried hard not to cringe.

"Are you okay?" Jane asked her softly, as they moved through the dispersing crowd. CHP were calling out directions through their bullhorns, telling the people to head out, as this area was now a crime scene. He ached to embrace her after the heart pounding moments he'd experienced watching her chase after an armed assassin, but he settled on a light, friendly hand to her shoulder. His eyes were dark with concern, belying the casualness of his touch.

"I'm fine. You? If he'd gotten off another shot—" He'd been standing not far behind the prince, directly in the line of fire.

"Don't think about it," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "I'm okay. Everyone's okay." He couldn't wait to be alone with her to show her just how relieved he was.

By this time, a few brave members of the press were trying to get a word in to the petite CBI agent who'd taken down a violent offender live on television. But Lisbon put up a dismissing hand.

"No comment now. A CBI or CHP spokesperson will answer your questions when they arrive on the scene. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

The members of the CBI followed their heroic leader up the steps and into the building to check on their charges, just as the ambulance arrived.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the unoccupied governor's office suite, Princess Alana was getting the small cut on her forehead bandaged, while various members of the legislature surrounded her, offering their sympathy. She basked in the attention, her quick wit, beauty and grace winning them over.

The prince refused treatment, other than the cleansing of his skinned palms and knees and a light bandage on each. When he saw Lisbon, he went over to her.

"Agent Lisbon. A private word, please."

Lisbon looked askance, but followed him to the governor's interior office. The prince waved Jeffries away and stood facing Lisbon just inside the door. Jane watched with interest, but didn't intervene.

"I just wanted to thank you personally for capturing Cousin Max. I guess Alana was right to doubt him, and Father correct in banishing him. To think that he lured us to California for this-it sickens me."

"Yes, I can't imagine how horrible it must be to have a family member do such a thing. I'm so sorry it turned out this way, but I'm glad we were there to stop him before either of you was hurt."

"I don't know how we can ever repay you and your team. But actually,"-and he moved a step closer to her, smiling softly-"I might know of a way…"

His handsome face filled her vision, and he leaned down to her much shorter height, whispering:

"Mr. Jane is watching. I think this is the perfect moment." Lisbon's eyes widened as she realized he was about to help her exact her revenge. She put her hands up defensively and they connected with his lean chest.

"Huh? No, I—"

The prince pulled her roughly against him, and he plundered her mouth with insistent lips. Her hands were caught between them and she struggled, but didn't want to resort to kneeing their royal guest in the groin. She thought of Jane's explanation for allowing Alana to kiss him, and realized that in this situation, to avoid a diplomatic incident, she would just let him have his way. She thought vaguely that she had totally forgiven Jane his seeming indiscretion with the princess. But as the kiss continued, and she gasped for air, he used that opportunity to slip his tongue between her lips. When his large, strong hand moved to her butt, she jumped against him, suddenly made painfully aware that the prince was getting into this revenge stuff just a little more than previously planned. Her surprised cry was muffled against his demanding mouth.

Then, abruptly, the assault ended, and Prince Alexander was torn away from her. The distinct sound of bone meeting bone filled the plush office and Alexander found himself lying on the ground, his hand rising automatically to touch his bleeding jaw in surprise. Jane stood over him, shaking his injured right hand and hopping a little in pain.

"Son of a bitch!" Jane exclaimed, referring more to his hand than to the prince he'd just knocked to the floor. But before Lisbon could intervene, she watched in horror as the man she loved was tackled to the carpet by a very determined Jeffries and a hulking officer from the CHP.

A/N: Just goes to show that revenge is definitely _not_ the answer. Hope you liked this chapter enough to review…pretty please?


	8. Royal Treatment: Conclusion

A/N: Well, we've come to the end of the road, at least for this installment of my series. This is my second chapter this weekend, so if you haven't read ch. 7, please go back and read that first so you'll understand what the heck is going on in this one.

The Epilogue is rated "M," and dedicated to my good friend, Shani8, because she asked for it. Hope you all like it!

**Chapter 8: Royal Treatment **

"Stop!" Lisbon screeched, as Jane's face was pushed into the carpet, his hands pulled painfully behind his back.

"Oww! Hey!" Jane said, struggling all he could, before Jeffries's knee on his spine stilled him. The rest of the CBI team were now gathered in the doorway, mouths open in shock as they beheld Jane on the floor like a common perp. Lisbon was helping the prince none too gently to his feet. Hightower took in the scene and her first reaction was outrage at the treatment of one of her own.

"What the hell is going on here?" she demanded.

"This man attacked the prince. He must be working with Max," Jeffries said from his position on Jane's back.

"No, I'm not!" came Jane's muffled voice as he spoke directly into the carpeting. "It's all a misunderstanding. I can explain."

"Let him up," Hightower ordered, using that principal tone that made Jane smile even then. Jeffries and the CHP man seemed unable to refuse her, and Jane was unceremoniously flipped over and allowed to sit up, but the two men still held him fast by the arms.

"Ma'am—" began Lisbon, trying to explain the situation. Hightower shot her a silencing look.

"Jane," she said, dangerously low. "Would you mind telling us all why you punched our royal guest in the face?"

Jane looked over at the prince, who was dabbing at the corner of his lip with a handkerchief, reliving that moment when he saw the man's hand on his woman's ass, and her cry of protest at this uninvited manhandling. His usual ability to see humor in a situation faded as the primal instinct to protect her came rushing back. His throbbing hand only enhanced the feeling.

"The bastard was assaulting Lisbon," he said coldly.

Everyone's eyes flew to Lisbon. "Is this true?" asked Hightower, at the same time Jeffries exclaimed: "Nonsense!"

"Well, not exactly-" Lisbon said shakily, avoiding Jane's darkening eyes.

"It is true," came the heretofore-silent prince. "I was expressing my gratitude to Agent Lisbon for rescuing us, and the emotion of the situation got the better of me. I'm afraid my _gratitude _was not entirely appreciated." He tried to smile a little, then winced in pain. "Mr. Jane clearly misunderstood and came to the rescue of his…_colleague_."

"Is this true?" asked Hightower, her mind awhirl trying to decipher the truth, feeling as if she was clearly missing something, some strange undertone that none of the three participants was willing to acknowledge.

"Yes, ma'am," Lisbon replied, grasping at the prince's explanation like a lifeline, "but I take no offense and would prefer to drop the whole thing if Prince Alexander is willing to." Her eyes silently appealed to him. He could make an issue of this, press charges against Jane, and her entire relationship with the consultant would have to come out. Her career would go down the tubes, and Jane could be brought up on assault charges.

The prince looked at his attacker, noting with amusement the fury clearly written on the man's face. Alexander had enjoyed kissing Lisbon, had wished fleetingly that he hadn't been sick the night before so that he might have experienced what this man on the floor felt was worth hitting a monarch for. If the taste he'd had just moments ago had been any indication of what she'd be like in the bedroom, he could fully understand Jane's desire to protect what was his.

"It was a misunderstanding, and I must apologize to Agent Lisbon for my…overly enthusiastic display."

"No apologies necessary. Thank you, Your Highness," she breathed in relief. No one else caught his conspiratorial wink, well, except for Jane. His eyes narrowed as the full meaning of that wink began to register.

Lisbon looked over at Jeffries. "Would you mind helping Jane up, please? He's hurt."

"No," protested Jeffries. "This man assaulted a member of the Royal House of Tremania. I demand satisfaction!"

"What do you want, Jeffries, muskets at dawn?" Jane asked sarcastically. "Well, sorry, but I don't think I'll be firing any weapons for awhile, since I think I broke my goddamn hand on his royal jaw." The throbbing was becoming unbearable, along with a new, different kind of pain. Lisbon and the prince had pulled one over on him. He'd been party to too many such plans himself not to recognize a con job when he saw one, especially such a poorly executed one. He couldn't believe he'd fallen for it. He suddenly saw how his blindness where Lisbon was concerned could be a liability in his pursuit of his own revenge.

"Help the man up, Jeffries," Alexander ordered firmly. "I would prefer to forget the entire thing and quickly evacuate this godforsaken city."

Jeffries was clearly torn, but he obeyed his prince without question. Jane stood on his feet, brushing past everyone to find somewhere quiet to lick his wounds.

"Jane—" Lisbon called after him, but he ignored her, walking past the reclining, smirking princess, who held an icepack delicately to her forehead.

"Goodbye, Mr. Jane," she said, having witnessed her brother's violation of Lisbon with much amusement. Jane's obvious overreaction to it all was just icing on the royal cake, as far as Alana was concerned. "Good riddance," she muttered to herself at the audacious man's refusal to acknowledge her. With that, she dismissed him from her mind. After all, there must be something wrong with a man who wasn't at least tempted by her charms. She turned her smiling attention to the delectable Agent Cho.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon caught up with Jane in the back of the ambulance. An EMT was applying an ice pack to his right hand and assessing his index finger.

"Looks like it's broken, Mr. Jane. I'll tape it up, but you should go to a doctor and have it x-rayed."

"Thanks," he mumbled. "You have something for the pain?"

Jane looked up to see Lisbon there, slightly out of breath, her brow furrowed in concern. She flashed the EMT her badge. "Could you give us a minute, please?"

"Uh, sure," the man nodded, giving Jane a couple of pain pills and a bottled water. The EMT jumped from the ambulance, and Lisbon climbed inside, closing the doors behind her. She sat on the bench the man had vacated.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine," came his clipped reply. Jane tried awkwardly to open the cap of the bottled water with his left hand. After listening to him cuss a moment in frustration, Lisbon finally took it from him and opened it. He nodded his thanks and took the pills.

"I'm sorry," Lisbon said finally.

He met her eyes, and she was taken aback to see the anger still there, simmering just beneath the surface.  
"Sorry for what, exactly? For my broken finger or for colluding with the prince to make me jealous?"

She looked at him in surprise, but immediately wondered why she was, considering he always managed to figure things out in the end. She sighed.

"For both. The prince and I hatched this plan yesterday, after I caught you kissing the princess. I was pissed off, and he was more than willing to help me get back at you."

He snorted humorlessly. "Yeah, I'll bet he was."

"Well, you and I made up last night, and I hadn't had the chance to tell him the plan was off. Before I could say anything, he grabbed me, you saw, and…here we are." She gestured helplessly.

"Aren't we above these kinds of games, Teresa?" he asked, the anger suddenly draining from him, leaving him feeling empty and cold as the ice pack on his aching hand. But unfortunately, his words suddenly rekindled the anger in her.

"Why yes, _Patrick, _I thought we were too. Hmmm…let's see now." She tapped at her bottom lip in mock contemplation. "Who was it who went against my express request that he _not_ attend the weekend's festivities, hmm? And who was it who seduced me and made me look bad in front of my boss and the Tremanians when I neglected my duty? And I still think something was fishy about how we ended up in Cho and Rigsby's room. Don't give me crap about _my_ games, Jane, and don't get mad that I tried to give a little back for a change. And as I recall, it wasn't me making a fool out of myself by punching a prince in the jaw."

"I could tell you didn't want to be kissed by that entitled asshole. I was defending your honor!"

"I could've had that guy on the ground in two seconds if I'd wanted to, and you know it." At the hurt look on his face, she forced herself to calm down, reaching for his uninjured hand. "But I appreciate the gesture, no matter how ill-advised it was." And then the humor of the situation hit her, and she chuckled softly. "You hit him pretty hard, Jane. I didn't know you had it in you."

He smiled a little in return, reaching up to finger a lock of her hair. "You bring out the protectiveness in me, Lisbon. When I saw him pawing you, I literally saw red. It was the kind of anger I only feel when…"

He didn't need to finish that statement. They both knew the other times when he was driven to a similar kind of madness, and his confession scared her a little.

"You don't have to doubt me, Jane. For one, I can take care of myself. For another, I love you, and there's no doubt about that."

"You doubted me last night, with the princess," he reminded her.

"No," Lisbon corrected. "I never doubted for a minute that you love me. I was pissed that you let that bitch in heat have a taste of what is mine."

He grinned at that, the smile lighting his whole face, shining from his eyes in happiness. "It seems we both have possessive natures…I think I like that."

She smiled back, because she couldn't help it. "That may be, but it's really not conducive to a healthy relationship. Let's decide right now that we trust each other. There are no more Mashburns, no more Tremanian royals, no more gawking women that can shake what we have, okay?"

"Gawking women?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "What gawking women?"

"Oh please," she protested, rolling her eyes. "Everywhere we go, women stop and stare at you. You know it and you flirt shamelessly with every woman in your path. I don't get upset by it because I know you can't help how charming you are." She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. "How gorgeous you are. I haven't told you this because your ego is inflated enough as it is."

His smile returned, and he practically glowed, pleased through and through that she saw him this way.

"And yet, ironically, I only have eyes for you, dear Lisbon," he said sincerely. His kissed her, and his heart thumped in his chest like the first time he'd felt her lips beneath his. The crackling of the ambulance radio made them jump apart, and the EMT pounded on the door.

"Lady, we've got another call. You two need to get out of there now."

Lisbon and Jane hurried from the ambulance, Jane holding the ice pack to his hand as she helped him jump down. His index finger was still unwrapped and throbbing.

"We'll stop at the hospital on the way to pick up your car from the mansion," Lisbon said as the ambulance roared away, sirens wailing.

"You know," he ventured, as they walked back up the stairs of the Capitol. "It's really difficult to do things with an injured right hand. I might need someone to undress me, to bathe me, to feed me, and even to drive me to and from work."

"I'm sure the hospital will recommend a crotchety old homecare nurse for you," she teased dryly.

"How 'bout a crotchety old CBI agent?" was his sly rejoinder.

"I'll see if LaRoche is busy," she tossed back over her shoulder.

He barked out a laugh. "Oh, Lisbon, you _are_ a bad, bad girl."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Outside the Emergency Room of a nearby hospital, Jane met his waiting CBI team mates. His finger hadn't been badly broken, according to the x-ray, so it was just taped to the neighboring finger for the next few weeks to keep it immobile and to give it time to heal. The royals had taken their leave and were escorted to their private jet by the CHP for the next leg of their tour of the US—Chicago. No one was sad to see the troublesome twins depart, except perhaps Cho, who would always have fond memories of the night he'd spent with a real princess. Something to _never_ share with the grandchildren someday.

Jane looked around the waiting area, but Lisbon and Hightower were nowhere in sight. According to Van Pelt, Hightower was outside smoking and Lisbon was in the ladies' room.

"So," began Rigsby. "I've been meaning to ask you. How was your night with the princess? Was she as good as she looked?"

Van Pelt gave an offended sniff. _Men, _she thought uncharitably.

"Fine,"said Jane and Cho simultaneously. The two men looked at each other, Jane grinning at Cho's stricken expression.

"It seems the princess was pretty free and easy with her…charms," Jane said.

"You mean you both-? Oh my God, what a tramp!" Rigsby exclaimed, although the way he said it made the harsh word sound almost complementary. He'd be envious too, had he not had his own night of passion with a certain red head who had yet to talk about what had happened between them.

"You have such a double standard," said Van Pelt in disgust. "Had you guys both slept with two different women in one night, you'd be high-fiving each other right now. But a woman, sleeping with uh, two, uh…" She found herself coloring and trailing off. "Anyway, you should be ashamed for talking about any woman that way."

Cho and Rigsby looked at each other as if to say, _Yeah, right. _ They'd worked with women long enough to know when it was time to shut up, however.

"Yeah," Jane intoned. "you guys should be ashamed of yourselves."

Van Pelt gave him an annoyed look because she couldn't decide whether he was mocking her. "I noticed you boys didn't say anything about Lisbon and the prince. I mean, first, we all heard their little tryst over our earpieces and then today's kiss in the Capitol. If you ask me, both of the royals were just as bad as they—"

Van Pelt had been so involved in her speech that she didn't quite catch Rigsby's subtle cutting motion over his throat, or Cho's wide eyes and slight head shake, or Jane's widening grin that would have clued her in to the fact that Lisbon had returned from the restroom. She flushed as Lisbon came to stand beside them. By her stricken look, she'd heard the entire thing.

"What exactly did you hear on the earpieces?" she asked tightly, looking directly at Jane, who was ready to explode with suppressed laughter.

"Uh, nothing, Boss," said Van Pelt. Cho and Rigsby shifted uncomfortably and avoided eye contact.

"Jane?" she growled.

To avoid laughing in her face, he cleared his throat, swallowed twice and managed to say: "Apparently you and _the prince_ gave quite the pornographic radio show last night. I'm sorry I missed it."

Lisbon's mind raced, remembering her two interludes with Jane the night before. The second time, she knew she'd taken off her earpiece. But the first time, when he—"Oh God!" she turned away from them, hands covering her face in mortification. Van Pelt went over to offer her boss some comfort. If anything, this experience had reminded them all that Lisbon wasn't just their boss, she was a woman with a healthy sexual appetite. Nothing to be embarrassed about there.

"It's okay, Boss, really. We didn't listen for long, just long enough to figure out it was you."

"Oh God," she reiterated.

"And how lucky could you be?"continued the oblivious Van Pelt. "You and the prince. He's so handsome. The whole thing was like a fairy tale."

"The prince?" Lisbon said, peaking over her hands. "How did you know it was the—the prince?"

Van Pelt had the grace to blush. "Well, I had heard you with him when I went to check on the two of you after you left the reception. It sounded like you were really in to each other, so I didn't interrupt. A little while later, and we heard uh, other things."

"Oh, God." She turned back to the rest of her team sheepishly. "Does Hightower know?"

They all shook their heads. "No," responded Van Pelt. "And no one is going to tell anyone else, right?" she prompted, meeting the eyes of each one of her coworkers in warning.

"No,"reassured Cho.

"No way, Boss,"proclaimed Rigsby.

"Wild horses couldn't drag it out of me," Jane said, also crossing his heart for emphasis. Lisbon glared at him for keeping this vital little bit of information from her. _He'll pay for that later_, she thought, and Jane sobered immediately at the evil intent in her eyes.

_Oh, God, _thought Jane, and gulped.

Just then, Hightower arrived, smelling faintly of Camels and spring blossoms. She surveyed her team, sensing again that she'd walked in on something. She shook her head; she really didn't want to know.

"So, Patrick, everything okay with your finger?"

He held it up his taped fingers like an Oscar. "All set."

"Well, let's get the hell out of this place. I am so ready for this weekend to end, even though I'm not looking forward to my debriefing with Bertram on Monday. Remind me, Agent Lisbon, to decline any future shitty details that even the Environmental Crimes Unit passes up."

"Yes, ma'am," Lisbon said wholeheartedly.

"Well, I for one had a really good time, despite the broken finger," Jane chimed in as they began walking out into the afternoon sunlight.

"Shut up, Jane," said Lisbon.

Jane only grinned.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Epilogue**

_**Four days later…**_

Candles flickered softly around the bubble-filled bathtub as Lisbon gingerly stepped into the steaming water. She sat down, then leaned back against the wonderful bath pillow that was Patrick Jane. Water sloshed a little over the sides as his arms enfolded her naked body, pulling her closer to sit between his legs as he kissed her bare shoulder.

"Awww…" she sighed, her head resting against his chest. "This is nice."

He reached toward the built-in shelf for the glass of zinfandel he'd poured for her, taking a small sip before placing it in her hand. They sat in contented silence a few moments as she sipped her wine, enjoying the heat of the bath and the soothing light. This was just what they needed after a long day of chasing leads for the new case they'd gotten Monday, and had just neatly closed today. She played idly with Jane's hairy, wet forearms, as he nuzzled the sensitive spot just below her piled up hair.

"I told you this would be a good idea," said Jane, loving the feel of her pressed so intimately against him, the smell of the candles and eucalyptus bubble bath infusing the humid air. It even felt good to soak his sore finger in the hot water.

"Yeah, yeah. We long ago established that you're always right."

She felt him grinning against her cheek. "You are a very wise woman, Agent Lisbon."

She purposefully undulated against him, feeling his hardening reaction beneath the water and his sharp intake of breath at her sweet torture. She set down her wine glass and moaned when his left hand came up to cup her soapy breasts, his other sinking beneath the water to begin a circular motion with his thumb. A few moments of that and rest time was clearly over. She sat up in the tub and turned around to face him as he wordlessly moved forward to meet her. Her hands found him and began stroking him while he leaned forward and took a rosy nipple between his teeth.

They were both panting while the steam rose up around them, the added heat speeding things along at a dizzying pace. He moved his hands to her hips and lifted her up on him, and she took him inside of her body with a gasp of pleasure. She grabbed onto his shoulders and met his passion-filled eyes with her own as their sensual movements had the water sloshing over the side and splashing onto the floor. She didn't even care about the mess she'd be mopping up later as he brought his mouth to hers for a deep, soul-wrenching kiss. Minutes later, and they were both crying out their release, wave after wave of pleasure overtaking them. She wrapped her warm arms about his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest as their hearts pounded together and their shallow breaths punctuated the steamy air.

She played with his damp curls and leaned back to kiss his sexy mouth, at a loss for words at how much she loved this man, at how he made her feel so loved in return. She smiled when she felt him take a breath to speak—Jane was rarely at a loss for words, himself.

"That was definitely worth the wait," he grinned softly, reaching up to wrap one of the wet tendrils of her hair around his finger. "You're so beautiful like this, all flushed and hot, like a freshly boiled lobster."

She frowned unhappily at his unromantic characterization. "You say the sweetest things," she said dully.

"But Lisbon, you know how much I love lobster. I can never get enough, once I've had a taste. And lobster has long been known as a natural aphrodisiac. Why, the ancient Greeks thought lobsters were Aphrodite's playthings-"

Her hand came up to cover his lips and his eyes sparkled with love and mischief.

"You know, it would have been much more romantic to call me Aphrodite," she chided, "or even a mermaid or some sort of water nymph. But a lobster? Way to break the mood, lover boy."

He laughed and pulled her in for another searing kiss, taking his time to explore her mouth and get her heart skipping again. When she was well and truly aroused, he released her lips with an endearing smile.

"I love you, my sweet little crustacean."

The dunking she gave him took Jane completely by surprise.

_**Epilogue to the Epilogue**_

No one could ever trace who had posted the video of CBI consultant, Patrick Jane, punching out the Royal Prince of Tremania, but two days after the incident, the shaky cell phone video went viral. While it couldn't exactly be classified as an international incident, it certainly had the world laughing for a few days…

**The End**

A/N: So there it is, the ending of another story. I do hope you liked it, and I thanks to all of you who have read and given me such nice comments. There are definitely more stories to come, but first, I have an informal poll for you. I could continue on to another story in this series I started, or I could go back to the episode tag I wrote for "Jolly Red Elf," and continue that storyline. If you haven't read it, please do, and let me know which story you'd like me to continue. I'll go along with whatever gets the majority of the votes. Either way, I still plan to write more after "Royal Blood," it's just a question of which one I do first. Thanks for your participation. I love hearing your thoughts and suggestions! And with a new tv episode coming up this week, you might see an episode tag from me if inspiration strikes.


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